Don't Let Go
by sheepish123
Summary: Sequel to "Touch". As Amanda continues to recover from her assault and gambling relapse, she finds herself on the verge of a breakdown and needing Olivia more than ever. Amanda/Olivia pairing.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a sequel to "Touch", so please read that one first. :) Since the previous story was told from Olivia's point of view, this one is told from Amanda's. Just a reminder that Noah and Jesse don't exist in this story.**

xxx

 _"And I'm caught_

 _I forget all that I've been taught_

 _I can't keep calm, I can't keep still_

 _Pulled apart against my will"_

xxx

It is after midnight and Amanda Rollins is pacing restlessly around her apartment, her heart hammering in her chest and sweat beaded on her brow, despite the chilly temperature, and she clenches and unclenches her fists several times in a row, recognizing the impending panic attack and trying to make it stop before it gets out of control. She has been off work for the past week and still has another week to go, and she is going absolutely stir crazy, the boredom and her own dark thoughts threatening to drive her right out of her mind. She feels like she is going to start bouncing off the walls soon, and is very close to driving over to Olivia's place and getting down on her knees to beg her boss to let her come back early.

It had been suggested to her to take some time off after she had revealed the details of the assault that had taken place a couple of weeks prior, and at the time she had agreed, not wanting to make waves after Olivia had been so kind and helpful to her, but now she is wondering why she has allowed herself to take a step back from the job she loves, from the co-workers who are her family. from her reason for getting out of bed in the morning, her purpose in life. Her natural instincts to put up a fight and argue her position are jumping to the forefront, as she feels trapped and so very lonely in her small apartment, but it is Friday night, another weekend now upon them, and even if Olivia lets her come back early, she still has a couple of days to wait anyway.

She knows she should be taking this time to recover, to try to get back on her feet, and she has been going to meetings every single day to try to make the overwhelming gambling urges stop, has actually thought about going to see a therapist but has not yet taken the steps to secure a consultation appointment for herself. She has been in contact with her co-workers over the phone and in person about her case, but just as she had suspected, they are not getting far. The man who had hurt her in that alley has remained a faceless, nameless ghost in the wind and she doesn't hold out much hope of catching him, despite her teammates' overly optimistic attitudes and reassurances. She knows they are just placating her, are trying to keep her spirits up, but it is not working, and she has felt herself sliding further into the dark hole she has been descending into these past several weeks.

She feels trapped in this apartment, is desperate for some fresh air but too afraid to go outside, convinced that the faceless, nameless ghost they are hunting is going to show up all of a sudden to hurt her again, to throw her life into a further tailspin, and that she will cower in fear once more, instead of going after him, arresting him, and getting him off the streets, like she had failed to do last time. Deep down she knows that she was in shock after it had happened, that she wasn't able to process everything she had been through, that the first thought in her mind was that she was grateful to still be alive and relatively unharmed, but it doesn't stop that guilt and regret that pull tight around her, threatening to choke her; that she hadn't done her job, that she had let him get away, that he might do the same thing to someone else.

Amanda's gaze falls to the phone on her nightstand and she reaches over to pick it up, scrolling through the names, trying to spot the one she is looking for. She doesn't feel quite as bad as she would have if it was a work night, but there is still a sharp stab of guilt as she brings up Olivia's name on the screen. She knows it has been a long week for her squad, especially since she has been absent, and consequently hasn't been able to do her share of the work, and she is quite sure that her boss wants nothing more than to just relax and have some quiet time to herself.

Amanda takes note of the late hour and realizes that Olivia is most likely sound asleep instead of enjoying the time to herself, and the hesitation is growing stronger as she stares at the older woman's name on the screen, her thumb hovering in mid air, trying to decide what to do. She blows out a breath she didn't know she had been holding and then bites her lip, feeling torn in two, the desperate need she has for the other woman to be with her so she is not alone with her thoughts, warring with the need to just leave her be and let her have some peace and quiet.

Amanda has been trying to pull back for the past several days, trying her best to reign in her sudden disturbing neediness and clinginess, after spending the entire previous weekend at Olivia's apartment. Her boss had graciously let her stay at her place after Amanda had revealed what had happened to her in the alley outside the gambling club, and has reassured her over and over that she can call or text at any time, but she has been doing her best not to.

She stands there on shaking legs, staring down at the phone in her hand, the letters of Olivia's name swirling before her eyes, and she can feel her resolve crumbling as the anxiety ratchets up another notch, knows she can't get through this night by herself, that the panic is only going to grow worse and more out of control, and that the only person in the world that she wants right now is Olivia.

She types in a quick word, her text as hesitant as she feels:

" _Hey..."_

Amanda jumps, completely startled, when her phone rings in her hand not one second later, _Olivia_ _Benson_ flashing across the screen. Her throat suddenly feels constricted, like it is hard to swallow or take a breath, and she feels that now familiar panic wrapping its embrace more tightly around her, and she finds that she cannot answer the phone, the guilt of relying on this woman, her boss no less, too much to bear.

Everything is suddenly crashing down on her, the vivid memories of the assault, the dangerous need she has to gamble, the even greater need she has for Olivia to be with her and comfort her; and her intense shame for all three is threatening to drown her.

The phone rings several times before stopping abruptly, and an instant text comes in:

" _Amanda, what's wrong? Why didn't you pick up the phone?"_

Her chest is tight as she types in an answer.

" _Because I can't talk."_

The response is clearly confused.

" _What do you mean? Why can't you talk?"_

She squeezes her eyes shut before opening them again and fixing them on the screen in front of her.

" _Because I can't breathe."_

The phone immediately rings again and this time Amanda picks it up, just holding it to her ear, breathing in and out in quick harsh pants, and it briefly occurs to her how obscene this must sound from Olivia's end, the heavy breathing from her subordinate possibly coming off as inappropriate, perverted, and again she swallows down that wave of guilt, shaking her head at how pathetic she is, trying to shake off the sudden, intense fear that Olivia will hang up on her in disgust.

But when she hears Olivia's warm voice in her ear, devoid of judgment, not an ounce of disgust apparent, she feels an incremental amount of relief and she closes her eyes as she listens to the other woman speak. "Hey, sweetheart, are you having a bad night?" Olivia's voice is gentle and soothing, and Amanda feels tears spring to her eyes.

She finds herself nodding in answer to her boss' question and then foolishly realizes that Olivia can't actually see her, and suddenly finds her voice again; is choking out the words before she can stop herself. "I need you, Liv."

The response from the other woman is simple and instantaneous. "Okay, Amanda, I'll be right there."

The relief she now feels is enormous and is edging out some of the guilt and shame, as Amanda hangs up the phone and continues to pace, waiting impatiently for Olivia's arrival. But it is not enough to edge out the panic, and the all-consuming anxiety is coiled firmly around her now, invading her brain and her body, overwhelming all of her senses.

The shadows in her apartment seem darker now, more threatening, and she abandons her pacing to curl up into a ball on the couch, only moving again when the buzzer sounds loudly, shattering the silence of the room. She talks into the speaker, telling Olivia to just come right in when she gets upstairs, and then unlocks the door before dashing quickly back to the couch, resuming her spot and huddling into the cushions, needing to feel safe.

When Olivia comes in the door, Amanda has a sudden primal urge to throw herself into the older woman's arms, so she roots herself to her spot on the couch, clenching her fists tightly, trying to stop the blush of embarrassment from spreading across her pale cheeks.

"Hey, honey, how are you doing?" Olivia asks softly, taking off her jacket and draping it over a nearby chair. "Are you still having trouble breathing?"

Amanda nods wordlessly, and the older woman takes a step toward her. Despite it being the middle of the night now, Olivia still looks immaculate, dressed in dark jeans and a striped sweater, her hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders, gold hoop earrings glinting in the dim light, the makeup on her face subtle yet perfect, and Amanda is beginning to think that she hadn't pulled the other woman from a sound sleep after all; that her boss looks as if she hasn't even been to bed yet. Her brow wrinkles slightly as she wonders what the other woman had been doing; what she has pulled her away from.

She has a brief flash of Olivia and Tucker in the hospital waiting room after Dodds had been shot, Olivia sleeping on Tucker's shoulder, and she bites her lip, feeling that guilt pierce through her again, the fact that her boss has a life outside of work, outside of her colleagues' needs and challenges, and she is taking her away from it. There is another feeling there too, bubbling just beneath the surface, and she tries to push it down, tries to ignore it, as it feels strangely like jealously, the odd sensation of not wanting to share Olivia with anyone else, of being so possessive of her time. This thought bothers her immensely, as this is not who she is, has never been this person before; so needy and clingy and dependent on someone else.

"Honey, are you okay?" Olivia asks gently, her hands raised slightly in the air now, and Amanda peers up at her through messy clumps of golden hair, realizing how she must look to the other woman, all hunched up and curled into herself on the couch, her position defensive, her posture radiating fear.

She tries to loosen up a bit, not wanting her boss to think she is afraid of her, because that couldn't be further from the truth. She wants Olivia to hold her again, like she had so many times the previous weekend, is craving the physical comfort, the gentle touches, and wants the other woman to banish the terrible thoughts from her brain, the incredible cravings to do things she shouldn't be, but her words are stuck in her throat again, unable to voice what she so desperately needs.

Olivia is looking at her intently now, her dark gaze penetrating into her own, and for a moment there is complete silence in the room as they regard each other, and Amanda is internally relieved when the older woman seems to read her mind, seems to know exactly what she wants, because Olivia takes another cautious step toward the couch.

"Is it okay if I sit with you?" her boss questions softly, voice patient and kind.

Amanda nods slowly, still unable to find her voice, and she wonders if they will have to resort to texting again, like they had at the drive-in movies, since her words seem stuck in her throat, her lips glued together, and she breathes in deeply through her nose, feeling like the oxygen is being sucked out of the room. She cannot seem to get a handle on this ever-present feeling of panic, like everything is spiraling out of control, and she closes her eyes, willing herself to calm down, to be in the present here with Olivia, and not allow her mind to wander to less pleasant topics. Sometimes when the anxiety takes her too deeply into her brain, she can practically hear the rain pounding down in that tiny alley, can smell the cigarette smoke in the air, can feel the man behind her, doing unspeakable, painful things to her body while she is pressed against the cold brick wall.

"Hey, Amanda, you're safe, sweetheart," Olivia whispers, and she is surprised at how in tune the older woman seems to be with her, like she knows exactly what Amanda needs and what she is thinking about.

She is aware of Olivia easing herself down carefully behind her on the couch, can feel her boss' intense gaze on her back, but is frozen to the spot, unable to turn around and look her in the eye. She is concentrating very hard on taking in enough deep breaths to keep from passing out, and the room around her wobbles for a moment, the walls seeming to shimmer slightly, as a wave of dizziness overtakes her.

"You can breathe," Olivia assures her quietly, like she is aware of the strangling hands of anxiety that are wrapped around Amanda's throat, invisible fingers pressing in and threatening to cut off her oxygen supply entirely.

She rests her head on her bent knees, closing her eyes to try keep the dizziness at bay, long hair spilling down her bare legs, and she is suddenly freezing, can feel the goosebumps popping out along her skin, the sweat from earlier having dried, and wishes she had thought to put something warmer on before bed, something more than the pajama shorts and tank top she is currently clad in.

She feels Olivia shift closer to her on the couch, and there is a brief touch to her shoulder blade, before the other woman quickly pulls away, as if it suddenly occurs to her that she should ask first before initiating any kind of physical contact. Amanda feels the loss immediately, opening her mouth to protest but realizing that no words are coming out, and then suppressing another sigh of relief when she hears Olivia's voice.

"Is it okay if I touch you?" the older woman asks softly, and Amanda nods, head still bowed and eyes still squeezed shut, and she wonders if she will be able to speak at all that night.

Olivia rests her hand gently against her back, not moving for a moment, and Amanda can feel the warmth of the other woman's skin through her thin shirt, the soft touch already beginning to relax and ground her, before Olivia starts moving her hand in slow, soothing circles.

"Oh, sweetheart, I can feel your heart racing," her boss whispers, the concern evident in her tone. "It's okay, you're safe. I'm here and you're not alone. You're safe, Amanda," she repeats, her voice more firm now.

They sit there in silence for a few minutes, before her boss starts talking to her softly again, her tone low, not asking about Amanda's panic attack or the assault or if she has relapsed yet again with her gambling addiction, but just telling her how the week has gone at work, chatting about Fin and Carisi and the antics the boys have been up to in Amanda's absence, letting her know how much she has been missed at the precinct. While she is talking, both of her hands are smoothing over Amanda's back, lightly swiping any stray hair over her shoulders and out of the way, thumbs digging slightly into her muscles from time to time.

When she feels Olivia's fingers working their way down her spine, massaging and trying to soothe her, she finally begins to feel her muscles unclencing bit by bit, her heart rate slowing, the relaxation wrapping all the way around her now, the intense relief of being released from the powerful grip of yet another panic attack, the anxiety slowing ebbing away and leaving her trembling with exhaustion in its wake.

Amanda's head has remained on her knees, eyes closed, and she fights the slumber that is threatening, as the gentle ministrations continue, and Olivia murmurs quietly to her about about nothing in particular now, just safe, mundane topics like the weather and what had been on TV the night before. Her body feels loose and slack now, her muscles turned to jelly and the older woman seems to realize this, as she feels a light touch on the back of her neck.

"Come on, honey, you need to go to bed. I can walk you back to your room and then spend the night on the couch, if you want."

"No," Amanda whispers, finally able to speak and making no effort to move. "Stay here with me."

She feels Olivia's arms encircle her from behind, her chin resting on her shoulder for a moment, before the older woman guides her down so that they are both laying on the couch now, Amanda safe in Olivia's embrace. She closes her eyes, finally feeling somewhat at peace, and sleep descends instantly, dragging her down into its dark, murky depths.

xxx

When she awakens again, it is to Olivia's voice, not as quiet and soothing as before, but more forceful now, a slight note of alarm weaving its way into her tone, and she realizes that she is still on the couch and has turned over in her sleep, lying on top of Olivia and covering her like a blanket. Her hands are underneath the other woman's shirt, fingernails digging sharply into the tender skin of Olivia's stomach, her jaw clenched tightly together, shaking and sweating and moaning, the remnants of something dark, something disturbing whirling around in her brain, but she can't get ahold of it, can't make the fading images stay put before they are sliding away and out of her reach. She is aware of a sound in the room, an awful piercing noise that is hurting her ears, before she realizes that it is coming from herself; that she is screaming.

Amanda hastily pulls her hands out from beneath her boss' shirt, horrified that she has injured her, that she has clearly crossed over the line of what is considered an appropriate boundary, and yanks herself up and away from the other woman's body, twisting out of Olivia's reach when the older woman extends an arm toward her.

"Amanda, it's okay, it's okay," she becomes aware of Olivia's voice, talking softly to her now, the other woman obviously trying to moderate the way she is speaking, as there is a slight tremble to her tone, like she is trying to keep herself under control. "Stop screaming, sweetheart, you're safe."

"What...what..." Amanda is confused and scrambles further out of her reach as she tries to get her bearings, tries to figure out what the hell is going on, tries to make her vocal cords work, as they seem to be failing her yet again. All she can see in her head now is a giant, looming figure, dark and faceless, and she presses her hands to her mouth as she slides off the couch and onto the floor, desperate for safety.

"Honey, it's okay," Olivia says, and in the dim light of the living room, Amanda can see an uncharacteristically wild look in the other woman's eye, her boss clearly struggling to keep her usual calm demeanor and trying not to show how afraid she is, and she bites her lip when Olivia's shirt rides up in the front as she shifts positions, the red raw scratches on her stomach becoming visible.

She can only guess what she had been doing while she was sleeping, her body and brain betraying her, her dreams and actions out of her control, and she covers her mouth with her hands again, trying to stifle a regretful, apologetic sob.

"God, I'm sorry, Liv!" she cries, her tone anguished and ashamed, and the hot tears spill down her cheeks before she can stop them.

xxx

 _ ***Song lyrics are from Florence and the Machine's "Caught"**_


	2. Chapter 2

Amanda is huddled up on the floor of her bathroom, back resting against the closed door, legs pulled up to her chest and arms locked around her shins, face buried against her knees. She is absolutely distraught, the lingering, blurry images from her nightmares completely banished from her brain now, as the only thing she can concentrate on is Olivia; how she has caused pain for the other woman, has possibly created irreversible damage, irreparable harm, to the friendship that has taken years to build, a relationship that she now cherishes very much.

She is trying to ignore the incessant tapping on the door behind her, but Olivia is nothing if not persistent, and she has clearly not been swayed by Amanda's terrifying nocturnal behaviour, because she is still here, even after being clawed across the stomach by her colleague's sharp fingernails.

"Amanda, please open the door." Olivia's voice has that soft, soothing lilt once again, and it only serves to make the already suffocating guilt even worse.

"Go away, Liv."

"I'm not going away after you asked me to come over here in the middle of the night." Olivia's voice is firm now.

"Well, you didn't have to drop everything to come here," Amanda answers, a note of petulance in her tone, and she bites her lip, feeling a swell of anger for herself, knowing the older woman deserves nothing but her kindness after everything she has done for her; but there is also that spike of jealousy again when she thinks of Olivia showing up here, looking beautiful instead of sleep-rumpled, obviously having been engaging in other activities before Amanda had ripped her away from them. "You must have better things to do with your time than being attacked by your co-worker while sleeping."

She hears a sigh from the other side of the door. "So you're upset that I came over?"

"No, Liv." Amanda's voice is broken now, and she swallows back another wave of tears, aware of the ones that are still streaming unchecked down her face, as she has not been able to stem the flow since realizing she had injured Olivia.

"Well, if you're not upset about it, then open the door and let me in," Olivia reasons gently.

"I can't."

"Why not, honey?"

"Because I hurt you." Amanda is practically choking on her words now. "You're afraid of me."

She hears the light scratching of fingernails against the door now, like Olivia is trying to soothe her through the barrier between them. "I'm fine, sweetheart, I promise. It's just a few small marks; I'll live. You did scare me at first," she admits. "But it was because I was sound asleep and didn't know what was happening. It took me a minute to remember where I was and why I was here."

"You're here because I'm a pathetic mess," Amanda murmurs, her voice so low she is not even sure if Olivia can hear her. "I understand if you're angry with me," she adds, louder now. "You have a right to be."

"I'm not angry, Amanda, I promise. What am, though, is worried sick about you. We need to talk, so please open the door."

Amanda closes her eyes, feeling the tears seeping out from beneath her lashes, and she tightens her arms around her shins. "I can't, Liv. I don't want to hurt you again."

"You won't," Olivia assures her softly, and Amanda hears a slight shuffling on the other side of the door, a sliding sound against the grain of wood, a brief shaking, like the older woman is now mirroring her position from the opposite side, and is sitting on the floor outside the bathroom, their backs against each other through the barrier of wood.

There is silence for several minutes and Amanda's head is leaning back against the door now, eyes still closed, the tide of tears finally beginning to slow. She is exhausted and afraid and somehow lonelier than she has felt for a long time, despite Olivia being right there behind her, on the other side of the door. She feels trapped inside her head, the dark thoughts swirling around her; that urge to just leave the apartment and seek out a place, any place at all, to gamble her money away, but at the same time feeling that need to stay put, that there are monsters out there waiting to get her. She has never felt more pathetic than she has at this moment and she is chewing her bottom lip so hard in shame, that she tastes blood, and reaches up to swipe a hand across her mouth, fingers stained red when she pulls them away.

"Amanda, _please_ let me in," Olivia finally says, apparently resolute in not giving up and not leaving her alone.

Amanda remains where she is for another minute before expelling a deep sigh and reaching up to unlatch the lock. She slides quickly across the floor in an awkward backwards crab walk, away from door, looking warily up at Olivia as the older woman enters the room. She has the bizarre urge to climb into the bathtub, just to create another barrier between them, as if she is suddenly going to leap up off the floor and attack her boss with her fingernails again, and she shakes her head at her own ridiculousness, resolving to stay put where she is and not give Olivia another reason to think that her employee has completely lost her mind.

"Amanda, you're shaking like a leaf," the older woman points out gently, when she gets a look at her. "You're exhausted and freezing, honey. You need to put something warmer on and go to bed."

Amanda hasn't even realized that she is trembling, the goosebumps from earlier making a reappearance, and popping out along the bare skin of her arms and legs. She folds further into herself, suddenly feeling how cold she actually is, and wanting the older woman's arms around her again, but she tries to clamp down on the urge to slide forward across the floor when Olivia kneels down in front of her; doesn't voice what she is feeling.

"Honey, what happened to your lip?" her boss asks softly, reaching out to place a hand on her jaw, but Amanda turns her head away from her, Olivia's fingertips grazing her cheek before falling away.

"Nothing, it's fine," she mutters, wiping her arm across her mouth, and noticing the thin line of blood smeared along her skin.

Olivia unrolls a wad of toilet paper and hands it to, before sitting back on her heels. "It doesn't look like nothing."

Amanda shrugs, putting the toilet paper to her lip to blot the small amount of blood. "I just bit down too hard; it's not a big deal."

Olivia is looking closely at her, a frown fixed on her perfectly made up face, and Amanda stares back at her for a moment before glancing down at the other woman's sweater, imagining the scratch marks underneath, and wondering if she had caused Olivia to bleed just like she herself now is. "I think you're having a really rough night," her boss says quietly, and Amanda shrugs again, feeling tiny and pathetic under the intense scrutiny of the older woman. "What were you dreaming about?"

Amanda tries to stop herself from shrugging for a third time in a row, and whispers "I don't know; I can't remember." She can't seem to get the shaking of her body under control now; whether it be from the cold and her lack of appropriate clothing, the fact that she had physically hurt her boss, or the lingering remnants of her disturbing dreams, she is not sure.

"Honey, are you scared?" Olivia questions gently, moving closer to her on the floor. "You're safe here with me."

A corner of Amanda's lip quirks up in a humorless grin. "It's funny that you keep saying that, Liv. It's quite ironic, actually. You keep repeating that I'm safe with you, but it turns out that you're the one who's not safe with me." Her mouth drags down in a sob as she says the words, a whimper escaping her throat, and she has to swallow back another onslaught of tears. "I may be scared, but I think you are too," she adds, a hitch in her tone now. "You're scared of _me_."

"Amanda, I am _not_ scared of you," Olivia says firmly. "Would I be in here with you, if I was? Stop putting words in my mouth. _You_ are the one who thinks I'm unsafe with you, not me. I never said that. I know it was an accident; I know you didn't mean to do it."

"Whether or not I meant to do it is irrelevant," Amanda argues. "It happened, Olivia; I hurt you. I can't trust myself not to do anything else while I sleep, so it's probably best that you just go home for the rest of the night."

"I'm not leaving," Olivia states, that stern note in her voice a warning for Amanda to stop with this line of conversation. "If you think I'm leaving you alone right now, you're crazy, Amanda."

"I _am_ crazy," she insists. "That's why you should leave. What if I hurt you again?"

"Okay, that was a poor choice of words," Olivia sighs. "Is this happening a lot when you sleep, Amanda? I noticed some things when you stayed with me last weekend. You seem very unsettled, like your nightmares are really controlling you, like you're having trouble distinguishing between what's real and what's not, especially when you're just waking up."

"I have a lot of bad dreams," Amanda whimpers, realizing she must sound like a whiny little girl, and wishing she was able to stop acting this way in front of her boss; feels stupid and silly huddled there on the floor in her skimpy tank top and polka-dotted pajama shorts, while Olivia sits before her looking like her usual perfect, immaculate self, confident and unruffled.

Her head is resting on her knees and she closes her eyes again, feeling the desperate pull of sleep, even though she wishes to remain awake; and when she feels her boss' fingers combing lightly through her tangled hair, she doesn't pull away this time. Olivia's touch is so grounding and soothing, and despite her best efforts to stay away from her, she finds that she cannot. She is backed quite literally into a corner and the older woman is blocking her only means of escape, but she doesn't try to make a move to get away, and instead shifts infinitesimally closer to her, that need for comfort edging out the need to put some distance between them so she doesn't hurt the other woman again. She is so cold and exhausted and confused about so many things, that she finds herself pushing gently back against Olivia's hand, urging her to keep going.

They sit there quietly for a few minutes, and Amanda is aware of Olivia shifting subtly closer to her again, fingers still threading through her hair and gently untangling the snarled locks. She turns her face toward her, head still resting on her knees, and meets the older woman's gaze, Olivia staring steadily back at her. Her boss strokes a hand over Amanda's cheek, causing her eyes to close again, and then she speaks, her voice soft.

"Honey, I think you need to talk to someone about this. You've been through a trauma and it's coming out in the form of anxiety and nightmares and sleepwalking, or whatever it is that's been going on."

"I do talk to people," Amanda murmurs, feeling lulled into relaxation by the continuous caressing of her unruly blonde hair. "I've been going to meetings every single day."

"That's amazing, Amanda, and I'm so proud of you for doing that, for trying to keep your addiction under control," Olivia says gently. "But I'm talking about seeing a therapist, someone qualified to help you deal with the trauma you've been through, someone who will give you some coping mechanisms for getting through these horrific nightmares and panic attacks."

"Don't worry, Liv, I've already booked a consultation appointment," Amanda answers, the lie slipping out of her mouth before she can stop it. Her heart rate picks up and she has to fight the blush that is threatening to spread across her cheeks; tries to convince herself that it isn't exactly a lie if she's at least _thought_ about booking an appointment, even if she hasn't actually gone through with it yet.

"Amanda, that's great," Olivia replies warmly, and she is sure she can hear a note of skepticism in her enthusiastic tone, but then the older woman's hand slides down to squeeze the nape of her neck in a comforting, proud gesture, and Amanda thinks she's in the clear. All she has to do now is get up the courage to actually book the appointment, and then what she has just said to Olivia will no longer be considered a lie.

She chews on her lip again, trying to stem yet another sharp flow of guilt that she is not being truthful with the older woman, and then tastes blood once more, the warm substance creating a metallic taste in her mouth and trickling down her chin.

"Oh, honey," Olivia murmurs, leaning over to wipe some toilet paper across the smear of blood and then holding it against Amanda's lip for a moment, until Amanda takes it from her, pressing it against the small wound.

Their gazes meet again and Amanda finally raises her head from her knees to fix Olivia with an apologetic look. "I'm really sorry I ruined your night, Liv," she says softly.

The older woman smiles at her, although there is a hint of sadness in her expression. "You need to stop apologizing for everything, Amanda. You didn't ruin my night." She is quiet for a moment, looking like she wants to say something else, and Amanda regards her intently, waiting for her boss to continue. "It was already ruined anyway," Olivia adds quietly, the words said almost under her breath, as if not wanting anyone else to hear them, and Amanda raises her eyebrows at her before frowning deeply, concerned for the other woman now.

"What? What do you mean? What happened?"

Now Olivia is the one who is shrugging and glancing away from her, and Amanda reaches out to place a hand on her arm before hastily pulling back, the image of the scratches on her boss' stomach stuck in her brain, playing on a loop, and she is terrified of hurting the older woman again, even though she is now awake and in control of her thoughts and actions. She has a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach now and has to resist the urge to gnaw on her injured, bloody lip once again.

"Liv..." She trails off and Olivia looks at her again, that sadness in her smile now apparent in her dark eyes, and Amanda's heart aches for her. "I know I pulled you away from something. Did I...did I screw something up for you? Something important? I mean...I know you have a life outside of the precinct, outside of Fin and Carisi and I."

"No, Amanda," Olivia replies softly, reaching out to gently squeeze her ice cold arm. "You didn't do anything, I promise. What was done was already done, okay? It had nothing to do with you."

Amanda is frowning at her again. "So the situation with me was basically just the icing on the cake of an already shitty evening?"

Olivia smirks slightly and gives a hollow chuckle. "Yeah, I guess you could say that," she murmurs. "But I don't mind being here with you, Amanda. I _want_ to be here with you," she clarifies firmly. "I don't want you to feel like you have to go through this all by yourself. I'm here anytime you need me, okay?"

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Amanda asks softly, curiosity and concern for whatever Olivia's situation is now outweighing the guilt and shame and fear that is still wrapped around her like a cloak. "You can talk to me too, Liv. I hope you know that this goes both ways. I'm here for you as well."

"I do know that, Amanda, thank you," Olivia says quietly, squeezing her arm again. "I appreciate your willingness to listen, especially with everything you're going through right now, but I'll be okay. It's really not that big a deal, particularly in light of what's been going on lately."

"Olivia, just because I'm going through something, it doesn't mean what's happening with you doesn't matter," Amanda snaps, her tone coming out more harshly than she means it to, and she winces briefly when she sees the other woman's surprised look. "Sorry," she whispers apologetically. "I just don't want everything to be about me, okay?" She stares hard at the older woman, wanting to convey her depth of feeling on the subject, needing Olivia to know that she is capable of being more than just the hopeless, pathetic mess of the past several weeks, that she can at least _try_ rise above her own despair and agony and be there for others, especially the one person who has been taking such good care of her, who has been so unwavering in her attempts to help Amanda escape this darkness.

She is adamant on getting Olivia to talk to her about what is going on, to share her feelings and see Amanda as her equal, as someone who can also be comforting and available when things get rough, but then the older woman suddenly shifts positions on the floor again, her sweater riding up like it had out in the living room and the deep red scratches on her stomach are displayed before her once more. Her breath catches in her throat and she swallows down a wave of nausea as she realizes that Olivia has downplayed her injuries, that the nail marks look much worse than she had originally assured Amanda that they were; that they look quite a bit more appalling in the harsh light of the bathroom than they did in the dimness of the living room.

She can remember more clearly now, being out on the couch with her boss, lying on top of her and thinking it was someone else pinned beneath her, someone she needed to get away from, someone who needed to be punished for the things they had done to her, the pain and humiliation they had inflicted upon her; remembers digging her fingers deep into the tender skin and raking them across the flesh in a sharp downwards motion, satisfaction coursing through her when she had heard the surprised, wounded shriek from underneath her, glad that she had been able to give back a little of the hurt that she had received.

"Amanda, it's okay; they're not that bad," Olivia is quick to assure her, obviously having noticed the stricken look on her face, the sudden tensing under the touch on her arm, the need to shift away again, out of her reach.

It is too late, though; the panic from earlier slamming back into her like a train, the calm that Olivia's presence and touch had induced completely obliterated, and Amanda is gasping for breath once again, the anxiety suddenly pulling tight like a noose around her neck, unable to keep her eyes off of the terrible injuries, and still seeing them imprinted in her brain even after Olivia hastily pulls her shirt back into place, murmuring apologies like she herself is the one who has done something wrong.

Amanda gets unsteadily to her feet, wobbling away from Olivia on shaky legs, hissing in pain as she scrapes the back of her leg on the cabinet as she backs out of the bathroom. "Liv, you need to go home," she chokes out, her chest tight, her stomach clenching. "I'm a monster. I don't want to hurt you anymore."

"Okay, Amanda, come on, enough now," Olivia says sternly, scrambling to her feet as well, and holding her hands out on front of her, a gesture she is starting to recognize now, one that the older woman seems to use when she thinks Amanda has gone off the deep end and needs to be brought back to reality. "You are sleep deprived and half frozen and traumatized, and you are blowing all of this extremely out of proportion. I am absolutely fine. I know you would never hurt me on purpose. You need to get over this and get dressed in something warm and get some much needed rest. You're not thinking clearly right now. You are not a monster; that couldn't be further from the truth."

"No, I am," Amanda whispers, completely unconvinced, as she continues to back out of the room and into the hallway, the walls seeming to shimmer again as the dizziness takes hold of her once more, and makes her head swim, giving everything in the apartment a slightly unreal quality.

"You're _not_ ," Olivia insists, following her slowly, hands still raised up as she speaks. "You need to talk to someone, sweetheart. The sooner the better, alright? When is this consultation appointment that you booked with the therapist? Is it soon? If it's not soon enough, I can try to get you in to see my own therapist again."

Amanda stares at her blankly and sees the frown etched across the older woman's features now.

"Your therapist, Amanda," Olivia says firmly. "The one you just booked an appointment with. How long do you have to wait?"

"Uh..." Amanda scrambles for an answer, realizing she has been caught red-handed in her lie, but unable to say anything else, as her heart is roaring in her ears now and she feels the invisible hands around her neck again, squeezing so tightly she can barely draw in a breath.

"Amanda..." Olivia sighs and shakes her head. "Did you lie to me?"

"Liv..." Amanda is seeing black spots in front of her eyes now, and she finds herself reaching out for the older woman even as she continues with her escape.

"What?" Olivia is reaching back, an alarmed look on her face now. "Honey, you're having another panic attack; it's okay, just try to calm down."

"Liv, I'm going to pass out," Amanda murmurs, and falls into Olivia's outstretched arms, holding on for dear life, as her knees buckle beneath her.


	3. Chapter 3

Amanda is curled up in the fetal position on Olivia's lap in the hallway between her bathroom and bedroom, trying to get control of her harsh breathing and wild heart rate, trying to blink away those stubborn black spots that are still swimming their way across her field of vision. She hadn't actually fainted but had come very close, the older woman catching her just as she had collapsed into her arms, and they had landed in an awkward heap on the floor together, Amanda sprawled across Olivia's legs. Her boss had quickly scooped her up into her lap and had begun rocking her gently back and forth, murmuring soothing words into her ear, waiting for the latest horrific panic attack to abate. They have been occurring so frequently now, that one seems to be running right into the next, with barely a break in between. Amanda is beginning to think that this is her new permanent state of being, and is struggling to come to terms with it, not sure how she is supposed to live day and in day out with this kind of debilitating condition, this ever-present issue. She is painfully aware of the fact that she actually should have booked a consultation appointment with a therapist instead of just lying to her boss about it, and resolves to amend this situation as soon as she can. She is grateful that the other woman hasn't brought it up again, the fact that Amanda had lied right to her face.

Olivia has been assuring Amanda over and over that the scratch marks on her stomach will be fine and that she will go into the bathroom to apply some antibiotic cream and band-aids once Amanda has been tucked safely into bed for the remainder of the night. She cannot seem to let go of her rampant guilt, though, and keeps seeing the ugly wounds every time she closes her eyes, the images of the harsh scratches imprinted on her brain. She has been resting her hand very gently against Olivia's stomach, on the outside of her soft, striped sweater, trying to convey how sorry she is, as the older woman continues with her rocking motion, beginning to lull Amanda into that state of relaxation she had been in on the bathroom floor when Olivia had been stroking her hair.

Amanda's fingers flex against the material of the older woman's shirt, wishing there was some way to fix what she had done, to undo the harm she has brought to her boss and friend. Olivia has assured her several times now that she is overreacting to the situation; that it was an accident and not her fault and that the injuries will not take long to heal, that they barely even hurt; but Amanda is still wracked with guilt all the same, pretty sure that the older woman is now the one who is lying to her, as the wounds are likely as painful as they look, if not more so. Olivia has even gone so far as to apologize for being too stern with Amanda about her reaction to the injuries, but this somehow just makes the guilt feel worse, as the older woman has absolutely nothing to be sorry for.

They sit on the floor together in silence for several minutes, the only sound Amanda's sharp intakes of breaths and ragged exhalations as she tries once again to get herself under control and remain that way for more than just a short period of time. Olivia has stopped speaking and is now resting her cheek against Amanda's bent head, and she can just imagine how exhausted her boss is; that she likely needs a good sleep even more than Amanda herself does. She guesses that Olivia's eyes are closed as they rest against each other, and she in turn closes her own eyes, feeling a tendril of relief as the panic starts to loosen it's suffocating hold once again, allowing for easier breaths.

She feels Olivia shudder slightly against her from time to time, and she frowns, knowing the older woman is upset about what has happened at Amanda's apartment that night, and whatever the events were that had taken place before she had arrived. Amanda suspects that there has been some kind of break up with a relationship, possibly with Tucker, but she isn't entirely sure and doesn't want to keep asking, even though her curiosity is getting the better of her. Olivia doesn't usually talk about her relationships outside of the precinct, but she is hoping the older woman will open up to her at some point, as Amanda doesn't want to be thought of as the needy, clingy one in their friendship. Not only that, but it makes her heart ache to think of Olivia being lonely or sad or upset and she wants to be there for her, wants to fix it for, wants Olivia to be able to find as much comfort with Amanda as Amanda does with her.

When she feels her boss startle suddenly against her, she jerks in surprise, clutching onto Olivia's arm and squeezing tightly, asking if she is okay.

"Sorry, honey," the other woman whispers, running a soothing hand through her hair. "I didn't mean to scare you. I think I just fell asleep there for a second."

"It's alright, Liv," Amanda says softly, still holding onto her arm. "I know you must be so tired."

"I'm tired and so are you," Olivia replies, her voice low, slurring slightly with impending sleep. "Okay, come on, sweetheart, let's get you into bed." She feels Olivia pulling away and urging her to get to her feet, and she feels another sudden surge of panic, grasping desperately onto the older woman's waist, as they both struggle to get up off the floor.

"It's okay, honey, I'm not going anywhere," her boss soothes, running a hand over her head and down her back. "I'm just going to help you into your room so you can finally get some sleep."

Amanda is shuddering so hard in the aftermath of the anxiety attack, that it feels like her legs are barely supporting her and are threatening to give out beneath her once again. She is shaking violently in Olivia's grip, holding on tightly because she doesn't want to lose her balance and fall to the floor, and barely even feels in control of her own body, of her own misbehaving limbs. That stubborn dizziness is still clinging to her, making her head spin.

"Do you think you can walk, honey?" Olivia asks softly, gripping Amanda back just as tightly to keep holding her up, and she shakes her head feebly.

"It's okay, I've got you," Olivia whispers. "Put your arms around my neck, sweetheart."

Amanda complies, her arms seemingly just as shaky as her legs, and Olivia leans down and hooks an elbow under her knees, hefting Amanda into her embrace with a slight grunt, cradling her like a baby against her chest and carrying her the short distance into the bedroom. When she tries to place Amanda down onto the bed, she has another surge of panic, suddenly convinced that the other woman is abandoning her, and her arms tighten around Olivia's neck to the point that she hears the other woman gasp, and finally Olivia has sit down with Amanda in her lap once again, unable to pull away.

"It's okay, honey, I'm not going anywhere," Olivia assures her, the gentle rocking motion starting up again. "Not unless you want me to."

Amanda tries to loosen her hold around the other woman's neck, not wanting to hurt her boss anymore than she already has. She is in a state of confusion, not knowing what she wants; desperate for the older woman to be near her and protect and comfort her, but at the same time, terrified that she will hurt her once again, when she is yanked back into the gloomy dark depths of unconsciousness, and has no control over her dreams and actions. Olivia seems to sense her confusion, because she continues to hold Amanda tightly, telling her that she is the one in control, that she will stay in the bedroom with her or sleep on the couch, whichever one she prefers, but is still adamant on not leaving the apartment, at least until morning, not at all comfortable with leaving Amanda alone in the current state she is in.

Amanda is secretly relieved, as she has changed her mind once again about Olivia being here; doesn't want to be left all alone again, with her thoughts and her anxiety and the fear she has of the monsters lurking outside her door, of not being able to hold onto her newly tenuous grasp of sobriety. Olivia holds her tightly in her lap for a few more minutes and then Amanda feels her start to pull gently away and slide out from underneath her. She feels the loss immediately, but the older woman just stands beside the bed for a moment, with her hands raised in the air again, assuring her firmly that she is not going anywhere, that she is just going to find some warmer pajamas for Amanda to change into and something for she herself to wear to bed, instead of continuing to sleep in her dressy sweater and tight pair of jeans.

Amanda huddles under the covers, still having trouble getting the trembling of her body to subside, as she waits for Olivia to dig through her chest of drawers, pulling out a warm pair of pajamas for Amanda and trying to find something big enough to fit herself. For the second time in a week, her boss has to help her get changed, as Amanda is still a shaking, shuddering mess of uncoordinated limbs, and Olivia is very gentle and patient with her as she helps her out of her shorts and tank top and into a fluffy pair of long red pajamas, before changing into another pair herself. Amanda has to suppress a sudden grin when she gets a look at her tough, no-nonsense boss in the silliest, girliest set of nightwear that she owns, the pink and purple striped pajamas pulling a little too tight around Olivia's more generous frame and not leaving as much to the imagination as an outfit like that normally would.

Olivia arches an eyebrow at her when she turns around, seeming to notice that Amanda is biting the inside of her cheek very hard, a smile threatening to spread across her face. "Something funny, Amanda?" she asks lightly.

"Nope, nothing at all, Liv," she replies, her expression radiating innocence, but huddling even further underneath the blankets at Olivia's intense stare.

"Oh, really?" Olivia answers, her voice stern, but Amanda can hear a hint of amusement in the older woman's tone. "I would think it wouldn't be appropriate to laugh in this kind of situation, after I've gone to so much trouble to help you out tonight."

"I'm not laughing, Liv," Amanda says, trying to keep a straight face, but her lip curls up at the corner the tiniest bit, betraying her sudden mirth.

Olivia is looking back at her intently, both eyebrows raised now, and Amanda can tell that she is fighting her own grin, her own urge to laugh, and this minuscule amount of joy in the intensity of the darkness that has been clinging to her lately feels absolutely wonderful and somehow freeing.

"You look really pretty, Liv," she teases softly. "Those pajamas really suit you. I bet you have a pair just like them at home."

"Don't push it, Amanda," the older woman smirks, but then surprises her by adding "I actually have several sets of these exact same pajamas back at my place."

Amanda snorts. "Yup, I knew it."

They smile at each other for a moment, and Amanda wants to hold onto this, the lightness between them, a break from all the despair of late, but it feels like trying to hold onto water, the liquid trickling through her fingers and falling out of her reach, when she notices Olivia turning toward the door with the intention of leaving her alone for the rest of the night. That all-consuming panic is immediately back at the surface, begging for attention once more, but she is resolute in not letting it have the upper hand again, in letting Olivia have some peace and quiet on the couch, without fear of the possibility of another attack by her slumbering, incoherent, mentally unstable subordinate, or at least that is how Amanda is beginning to view herself.

"Are you going to be okay in here on your own?" Olivia asks gently, pausing at the door, a hesitant expression crossing her exhausted features. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you?"

"I'll be fine," Amanda assures her, hoping the older woman hasn't noticed the slight wobble in her tone, trying to sound like she has more courage than she actually does.

"Are you sure?" Olivia questions again, her dark gaze penetrating into Amanda's own, and she has to look away briefly, trying to gather some of the usual spunk and determination that seem to have fallen by the wayside these past several weeks.

"I'm sure," she whispers, wincing at the way her voice shakes, clamping her hands firmly underneath her thighs when she notices them shaking as well.

Olivia looks at her in silence for a moment and then strides quickly over to her, bending down and gathering her into a tight hug, obviously forgetting to ask if Amanda wanted to be touched first, but she doesn't care, and grips her boss back just as hard, pushing her face into Olivia's thick brown locks, the other woman smelling of sandalwood and safety.

"I'll be right in the living room if you need me," Olivia says softly into her ear, and Amanda nods against her neck, unable to let go for a moment, but she finally releases the older woman and settles back onto the pillows, watching as her boss starts toward the door of the bedroom again.

"Come and get me for anything you need," the other woman says firmly, and Amanda nods, resisting the urge to bite down on her injured lip as Olivia gives her a gentle, understanding smile, and then leaves the room.

She listens to her boss padding down the hall into the living room and getting set back up on the couch, and she pulls the covers up over her head, promising herself that she will get through this night without anymore help from Olivia; reminding herself that she had managed to make it through every single night of the past week all alone, after she had left Olivia's apartment, and hadn't done too badly, had at least been able to control the panic attacks without calling anyone for help. But the attacks have been escalating to a frightening extent, each one seemingly worse and longer than the one previous, and she knows that it is of the utmost importance that she book an appointment with a therapist as soon as possible. She hadn't even bothered to bring up the subject of returning to a work a week early, and figures there is no point now, not after what Olivia has witnessed that night.

Amanda closes her eyes, burying her face against the soft pillow, willing herself to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. After tossing and turning for what seems like hours, she is finally able to slip just below the surface of consciousness, but is immediately dragged back down into her nightmares, a faceless, nameless man trapping her in that small, reeking alley outside of the place where her relapse had occurred, forcing her into degrading, humiliating, and painful acts, and she awakens again and again, gasping desperately for air, Olivia's name on the tip of her tongue, ready to call out to her for help, before being dragged back under again.

xxx

The sky is just beginning to turn light, a tinge of pink splashed across the horizon, when Amanda awakens for the final time, covered in sweat, heart hammering out of control, a wave of nausea overcoming her, and she is now determined _not_ to fall asleep again, wants to stay awake for the remainder of the day, no matter how exhausted she is. The images in her brain are swirling around in a confusing, terrifying mess, and she feels like the stranger from the alley is all over her, inside of her, and she claps her hand over her mouth, rushing from the room and collapsing in front the toilet, vomiting several times in quick succession.

She reaches out to try to push the door gently closed, not wanting to alert Olivia to the situation, figuring her boss has probably had all she can handle for the past several hours and is likely reaching her breaking point. She hears a soft snore from the living room through the crack in the door and she sighs in relief, glad that Olivia seems to be sound asleep, as much as she wants the older woman in here with her, wants to be in her comforting embrace again. But she resolves to handle this on her own, and gets up on her knees again to throw up a few more times, before sitting back on her heels and wiping a shaking, exhausted hand across her mouth.

By the time she is done being sick, the sweat that had been coating her upon awakening has soaked entirely through her thick pajamas and they are clinging to her like a second skin, wet and uncomfortable, her long blonde locks matted to her head in much the same way. She gets unsteadily to her feet to peel them off, tossing them to the floor, and reaching in to turn on the shower.

Once she is in the bathtub, she stands under the cool spray of water, a sudden sob bubbling up in her throat, and she presses both hands over her mouth, desperate to hold in her anguish, resolute in letting Olivia rest and giving her a break from all of the drama. It shames her deeply that she is so needy for older woman, needy to the point that she is sorely tempted to ask Olivia to come in here while she showers so she doesn't have to be alone with the horrific images that are continually assaulting her brain, but she refrains, instead squeezing her eyes shut and holding onto the wall in the tub, hands splayed flat against the tiles, resting her head against them as well, and willing herself to calm down.

When she is done showering, she stands there for a moment, listening intently, and when she is satisfied that Olivia is still sleeping and hasn't been disturbed by the noise, she steps out of the tub and wraps a towel around herself, letting her long blonde hair hang down her back, water streaming in rivulets onto the floor. She pushes the bathroom door open as quietly as she can and creeps out into the dim hallway, glancing toward Olivia's sleeping form on the couch, buried underneath the blankets, covers pulled up to her chin.

A soft noise sounds from the direction of her bedroom and Amanda turns her head sharply, gasping in complete shock, stunned into silence, when she sees a man framed in the doorway, too dark to make out any of his features, his shadowy, hulking body towering over her. She suppresses a sudden shrill scream and slams her eyes closed, digging the heels of her hands into her eyelids for a moment, trying to center herself, and when she opens them again, he is gone, the apartment empty except for she and Olivia. Amanda swallows hard, feeling another wave of nausea, knowing he was never there in the first place, and that her wild imagination is threatening to send her over the brink of sanity.

The sob that had been bubbling up in her throat when she had been in the shower, is making a reappearance, and she whimpers with the supreme effort of holding it back, her bedroom suddenly seeming unsafe and off limits, and she turns toward the couch, hesitating for a moment before tiptoeing closer and standing above Olivia's prone form, the other woman's features slack, body relaxed with sleep, another soft snore escaping her mouth.

Amanda falls to her knees in front of the couch, not caring that she is clad only in a towel and that the water from her hair is running down her skin and soaking the carpet and furniture. She buries her face against the slumbering form of her boss and bursts into tears, the anguished, tormented sobs pouring from her mouth now, and she doesn't even try to stop them this time, doesn't even think she has the power to hold them in now.

"Olivia, wake up," she pleads, the tears streaming faster and faster down her pale cheeks, dripping one by one onto blankets covering the older woman, and she is desperate for comfort, desperate not to be alone anymore, her next sob turning into an excruciating wail.

 _"Olivia, wake up!"_


	4. Chapter 4

Amanda is kneeling on the floor in front of the couch, sobbing hysterically into the blankets covering Olivia's slumbering form, unable to get control of herself. Her tears are mixing in with the water pouring from her hair, drenching everything in sight, and she feels the older woman jerk awake beneath her, Olivia's arms closing around her ribs, voice sounding alarmed and confused, but her words are lost under the force of Amanda's cries, and the only thing she can hear is her own keening wail.

She is aware of Olivia shifting backwards on the couch to create more space and then pulling her onto the cushions in front of her, so she is lying on her side with her back to the other woman's chest, the warm blankets closing around her sopping wet, shivering frame, Olivia's arm banded tightly around her towel-clad stomach.

"Jesus, Amanda, you're soaking wet! What happened? What's going? Are you okay?"

Amanda is finally able to hear to hear her boss' voice over the din of her own anguish and tries in vain to stop crying so she can answer her; knows that Olivia must be frightened and perplexed and overwhelmed, suddenly being yanked from a sound sleep by the hysterical cries of her colleague, but she can't seem to stop; the pain and despair of the past several weeks pouring out of her mouth without abating. Both of Olivia's arms are wrapped around her now, her chin resting on her shoulder, and Amanda figures the older woman must now be as soaked as she herself is, and can feel the blankets becoming heavier with the weight of the water leaching off of her. She tries again to calm down, to get her panic under control, figuring Olivia has had quite enough of her subordinate screaming either into her ear or into her face or just in general; not to mention the nearly constant anxiety attacks, but still she can't seem to make it stop, the feelings and emotions just too much to get a handle on.

She can see the door to her bedroom from this angle, and her heart is suddenly in her throat again as she thinks she glimpses the shadow of a man there, but when she blinks, the doorway is empty, the light from the rising sun just beginning to brighten the room, bathing the inky blackness in pale gold. She knows that the severe lack of sleep combined with the events of the past few weeks are playing tricks on her brain, but the terror she feels is just so real, so ever-present, that she finds herself trying to pull away from Olivia's firm grip, needing to be out of the apartment, out of the building, because now it seems like the monsters are in here, in her own home, and she is not safe anywhere. A desperate note of alarm escapes her throat as she tries to stumble off the couch, feeling trapped beneath the damp covers, the wet towel pulling like a vise around her trembling body.

"Hey, hey, stop!" Olivia is saying behind her, voice rising to be heard over the heartfelt sobs, and Amanda feels a leg being thrown over her thighs, the older woman's hold on her becoming tighter, and this only makes her struggle harder for a moment. "Amanda, stop it right now! Calm down. What's happening? Where do you think you're going?"

"Out-outside," she stutters, barely able to get the words out, as the tears continue to stream down her face, and she swipes a hand under her runny nose. "I need to get out of here."

"You're not going anywhere," Olivia states in that stern, authoritative voice that is usually reserved for the precinct, but that Amanda has now heard several times over the past week in their personal dealings. "You're only wearing a towel, sweetheart. Or at least that's what I think you're wearing. You are not leaving the apartment like that, understood? Just take a deep breath and try to talk to me, okay? What's going on?"

"I can't-I can't make it stop." The words are so hard to get out through the constant sobs, and when they fall from her open lips, she is not even sure if Olivia can understand her. "The nightmares won't stop. The panic attacks won't stop. I can barely sleep. Sometimes I think...I think he's in here, inside my apartment. God, Olivia, make it stop," she pleads, knowing the words are useless, that the other woman can't control what is happening to Amanda or how she is responding to the trauma she has been through, but that doesn't keep her from begging her boss over and over to help her, to put an end to all of this torment, to make it all just stop.

"Okay, okay," the older woman says softly, her voice soothing now, the stern note from before nowhere to be found, although there is a slight hitch in her tone that wasn't there a moment ago, and Amanda's heart clenches at the thought of making Olivia upset. "We'll make this stop, honey, I promise. I'm going to call my therapist this morning to book a consultation appointment for you."

"You can't call him on a Saturday morning, Liv," Amanda mumbles, dragging an arm across her face, eyelashes glued together with tears and shower water.

"I can and I will," Olivia states simply, no room for argument in her tone. "I'll see if he can squeeze you in sometime in the coming week, hopefully first thing on Monday."

Amanda nods and tries to say thank you, but the only sound that emits from her mouth is a deep, shuddering sigh, and to her horror, she feels like she is not done crying yet, a fresh round of sobs bursting from her. She covers her face with her hands, trying to muffle the sound, exhausted and embarrassed, and her knees curl into her chest, body hunching over in Olivia's embrace.

The older woman seems to be molded to her from behind, and Amanda figures Olivia's pajamas must be clinging to her by this point, with the amount of water she has been shedding; that her boss must be so uncomfortable, having been wrenched from a peaceful sleep and into this mess, and her heart aches at what she has been putting her through. "It's going to be okay, Amanda," Olivia whispers, running a hand over the goosebumps on her bare arm. "I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but it will be."

There is a slight pause and Amanda's brow crinkles when she can feel the sudden hesitation radiating off of the other woman. "Honey, you would tell me if you needed to talk to someone today, right?" Olivia asks softly. "Do you think you can wait until next week or do we need to go somewhere today to get you some help?"

Amanda feels her stomach tightening in trepidation and her muscles clench involuntarily. "Like where?" she questions warily, but knows the answer before Olivia even speaks.

"Like the hospital," her boss replies gently. "Amanda, if you need to talk to someone today, I can take you there, sweetheart. We can go right now."

"No!" Amanda gasps, that panic rearing its ugly head again. "No, Olivia, please! I'll be fine, really. I can wait. I'll be fine," she repeats firmly, struggling again to release herself from the taller woman's hold, but Olivia holds fast to her squirming form.

"Honey, calm down," she whispers. "It's okay, I'm not going to force you to go anywhere you don't want to go, unless I think you're a danger to yourself, which I haven't seen any evidence of."

"I'm a danger to you," Amanda mutters before she can stop herself, and she feels Olivia's arms tighten around her briefly, before she continues speaking, not addressing Amanda's comment.

"I'm just letting you know that it's one of many options, alright? I don't want you to be afraid to tell me if you think that's where you need to go to start feeling better, to start getting on the road to recovery. There's no shame in admitting that you need help right now, Amanda."

"I can wait until next week," she whispers adamantly. "But I'll let you know if I can't, Liv, I promise." She feels the older woman's brief squeeze around her stomach, and she reaches down to cover Olivia's hands with one of her own. "I'm really sorry, Liv. I'm sorry I lied to you about booking a therapy appointment. Maybe if I had actually booked it, instead of just saying I did, this wouldn't be happening right now."

"It's okay, Amanda," the other woman replies gently, and she feels Olivia's hands wrapping around her own. "You're forgiven for lying to me, and there's no point in blaming yourself for not booking an appointment sooner. It's not going to help anything. All the self-blame needs to stop right now. It's only getting in the way of your healing process."

"I can't believe what I said before," Amanda says softly, biting down on her lip before she remembers that there is a wound there, and tastes blood on her tongue once again.

"When you said what, honey?" Olivia asks, her hand still wrapped firmly around Amanda's.

"When I said what happened in the alley didn't matter, that it didn't count, because it was so short, because it only took a few minutes and then he was gone," Amanda spits out, ashamed of herself. "What kind of cop says something like that? And it _does_ matter, Olivia. It's all I can fucking think about," she cries, the tears starting up again. "I can't let go of it, I can't get it out of my head. How can someone who I didn't even _see_ , who was in and out of my life in a matter of minutes, be tormenting me so much?"

She is sobbing again, horrified at her inability to get control of herself, to be breaking down over and over in front of her superior, but she just can't seem to stop, no matter how hard she tries. She had mistakenly thought that she was at her lowest point in the weeks leading up to the gambling relapse, when that had been all she was able to think about, her thoughts absolutely consumed with wanting to do the one thing she wasn't supposed to do, with wanting to just give in and let go and do the thing she enjoyed most, so sick and tired of all of the repetitive doom and gloom of her job, but she had been wrong.

When she had been standing in that alley outside that club, smoking that cigarette with shaking fingers, blowing the puffs of putrid air into the rainy night, she had again thought she had reached her lowest point, chastising and berating herself over and over for not being able to control her addiction after working so hard for long, doing her best to ignore all the persistent thoughts and cravings, walking by all her usual haunts with her head held high, determined not to collapse under the pressure, but she had been wrong again.

She feels like she is at her lowest point now, bawling uncontrollably in her boss' embrace, unable to get the faceless, nameless monster out of her head, unable to sleep without being tormented, unable to do anything at all without descending into another terrifying, seemingly never ending panic attack, every sense of her being consumed with anxiety, from the shuddering of her limbs to the darkness in her brain. Her confident, sassy, energetic, hard-working self seems to have taken such a blow that she has completely disappeared, and has been replaced by this weak wreck of woman, a shell of who she had once been; a shaking ball of tears in her superior's arms, and the shame and guilt raining down upon her will not let up, will not let her even try to pull herself up out of this black hole.

"Sorry, Liv, sorry," she suddenly finds herself stuttering out, feeling the need to put some distance between them, not because that's what she wants, but because she thinks that's what Olivia wants. She is desperate for comfort, wants to stay wrapped up in the older woman's safe embrace, but she doesn't deserve it, not after everything she has been putting her through, not with her disconcerting inability to leave Olivia alone and just let her live her life without complicating it with her colleague's problems, issues that she has brought upon herself, or at least that is what Amanda is convinced of.

"Hey there, sweetheart, where are you going?" Olivia asks gently, as Amanda pulls away again, struggling to sit up amid the wet blankets and the towel that is hanging askew from her shivering body. "You're not trying to make a break for the outdoors again, are you? Because I can't let you do that when you're just about naked there, honey." The older woman's voice has a slight teasing lilt, like Olivia is trying to lighten the mood a little so that Amanda will stop trying to escape, so that she will calm down and continue talking to her, and Amanda knows that her boss is worried sick about her, the concern weaving its way into the forced lightheartedness of her tone, and Olivia is not fooling her at all, the distress entirely evident in her actions, as she reaches out for her with a slightly trembling hand.

"Amanda, hey, come on, sweetie, can you just stop and talk to me, please? Of course what happened to you matters, honey. And it's normal to feel tormented by it, to not be able to stop thinking about it."

Amanda is perched on the edge of the couch now, tears still streaming down her face, her nose running profusely, and she crosses her arms over chest when she realizes that the soaking wet towel has slipped down to pool around her waist. She keeps her gaze averted but feels Olivia sit up beside her, draping one of the damp blankets around her back, and then rubbing a soothing hand up and down the nubby material.

"Why did you apologize to me, honey?" she asks softly, and Amanda finds herself leaning against her, despite trying to get away a moment ago, her utter exhaustion and desperate need for comfort once again getting in the way of her dignity, and she guesses her behaviour is not doing much to try to convince her boss that she is not the clingy one in this friendship.

"I'm sorry for putting you through all this, Liv," she whispers. "I feel so bad for taking up your time. I know you have better things to do than babysit me while I have meltdown after meltdown. To honest, I don't even recognize myself anymore. How is it possible to change this quickly? I was a completely different person a few weeks ago." Her voice breaks again, and she utters a string of curse words under her breath, furious with herself for not being able to hold it together, so utterly sick and tired of falling apart all the time.

She turns her head away in shame, but feels Olivia's hand on her cheek, guiding her head down to rest on her shoulder, the older woman's arms wrapping around her once more, cocooning Amanda in her warm embrace, and they sit there in silence for a moment before Olivia speaks again.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Amanda," she says quietly. "I've been where you are. I know what it's like to go through this kind of thing, but when I went through it, I was alone because I pushed everyone away. I'm so glad you're letting me be here for you, letting me help you. I'm so glad that you're allowing yourself to go through this with someone else, with me, instead of being along."

Amanda's face crumples at the thought of Olivia enduring something like this all on her own; what she had gone through with Lewis, what she had heard about concerning the incident at Sealview. She covers her mouth with her hand, muffling another sob, wishing she had been there for her after what had happened with Lewis and grateful that their relationship had changed so much for the better since then.

"Okay, now I'm the one who's sorry," the older woman whispers, and Amanda can hear the pain in her voice. "I didn't mean to make this about me. I just wanted you to know that you're never alone, okay? I'm always here."

"Thank you, Liv," Amanda replies softly. "And the same goes for me, okay? I'm always here for you."

"I know, honey; thank you." She feels Olivia's fingers working their way through the matted, snarled strands of her sopping wet hair, and she rubs her face tiredly against the older woman's shoulder. "Okay, you need to go back to bed for awhile, Amanda. You are in serious need of a good, long sleep. And I'm going to get try to get ahold of my therapist while you rest."

Amanda starts to protest, but Olivia gently shushes her. "I'll stay in the room with you until you fall asleep, I promise. But then I'll come back out here to make the phone call, and because I know you're still worried about hurting me while you're dreaming. Does that sound like a deal?"

"Okay," Amanda whispers, her eyes already starting to droop closed, and she feels Olivia hoisting her to her feet and guiding her into the bedroom.

They get changed yet again, Amanda drying off and finding another pair of warm pajamas, but Olivia just shrugs out of her borrowed nightwear and throws on a robe of Amanda's, seemingly too tired to care about what she is wearing and more concerned with how her colleague is doing. Her hair is drenched but she is too exhausted to dry it, so Olivia lays a towel over the pillow for her, so the water won't soak into the bed as much. When she is tucked underneath the covers, Olivia climbs in beside her and they lay there side by side, Amanda's eyes closing of their own volition, but her heart beginning to pound in her chest again at the thought of being sucked back into more nightmares featuring the faceless, nameless man that they are likely never going to catch.

"Just go to sleep, honey," Olivia soothes, and Amanda feels her fingers in her hair again. "Let your body get the rest it needs. The more rest you get, the better you'll feel. I think things are going to seem a little more under control, a bit easier to deal with, if you can at least get caught up on some sleep."

"I don't want him in my head," Amanda murmurs, feeling the impending unconsciousness, as the older woman continues running her fingers through her long blonde hair. "I see him everywhere, Liv, but I can't see him, if you know what I mean."

"I know what you mean," Olivia whispers. "Is that what happened while I was sleeping? Did you see him?"

"Yes," Amanda whimpers, and she feels the older woman shift closer to her under the covers, a hand smoothing up and down her arm now. "I mean, I know he's not really there. I just keep seeing shadows."

Olivia takes her into her embrace, pulling the blankets up over her shoulders. "You're safe, sweetheart, I promise. He'll never hurt you again. Just try to relax; I'm here with you."

Amanda finally succumbs to sleep, snuggled up in Olivia's arms, as she tumbles into the dark once again.


	5. Chapter 5

When Amanda opens her bleary eyes, she has no idea what time it is or how many hours have passed, but the sun is streaming into her bedroom, painting the walls in bright yellow rays, and she guesses that it is much later in the day now. She hears a crinkling sound to her left, and is surprised to see Olivia propped up against the pillows next to her, ankles crossed on top of the covers that Amanda is huddled beneath, a frown fixed on her face and a pencil clenched between her teeth, as she gazes intently down at the newspaper in front of her. She has a mug of coffee clutched in one hand, a pair of glasses perched on her nose, and is dressed in the sweater and jeans that she had arrived in the night before.

Amanda cranes her neck to see what she is doing, and recognizes the crossword puzzle from the New York Times. Olivia seems very intent on her task of trying to solve the puzzle, her frown becoming deeper as she thinks, and seemingly doesn't notice that Amanda is awake, giving her time to study the older woman out of the corner of her eye.

Olivia is looking like her usual beautiful, immaculate self again, dark hair shiny and clean, and Amanda guesses her boss has showered and eaten while she has been asleep. She appears well rested and content; the only giveaway that something is amiss are the purple smudges standing out below the other woman's eyes and the slight pallor to the usually healthy glow of her face.

She finds herself exceptionally glad to be waking up with the older woman right next to her in bed, Olivia seeming to radiate comfort and safety even while just sitting there, still and silent; although she is mildly perplexed, remembering that her boss had said she would leave the room after Amanda had fallen asleep, which obviously she had at some point, so she is pretty sure that something has occurred while she has been slumbering, something to bring Olivia back in here again.

"Oh, hey, you're awake," the other woman says softly, removing the pencil from between her lips and smiling down at her, Amanda smiling hesitantly back and moving closer to her in the bed, that neediness cropping up once again.

Olivia has a look of understanding on her face and rests one hand on top of Amanda's head, the fingers of her other hand still hooked around the handle of her coffee cup, her smile stretching wider, and she chuckles slightly. "Oh, honey, that's quite the hair style you've got going on there," she teases, and Amanda reaches up to her own head, her hand brushing against Olivia's, and feels the snarled blonde strands standing out in tangled clumps, still slightly damp from her earlier shower. The towel that has been laying across the pillow beneath her head is wet, so she pulls it out from under her and tosses it to the floor.

"What are you doing in here, Liv?" she asks, voice gravelly with sleep. "Not that I mind you being in here," she quickly amends, not wanting the older woman to think that she is unwelcome. "I was just wondering."

"You were crying in your sleep and yelling my name," Olivia explains softly, gazing down at her with kind dark eyes. "I thought it would be best if I stayed in here with you until you woke up, so you wouldn't be alone."

"Oh," Amanda murmurs, feeling a pink blush creeping across her pale cheeks, but the embarrassment that is spreading through her is tamped down right away when a disturbing thought occurs to her. "Did I hurt you while I was sleeping?" she asks warily, and breathes a sigh of relief when the other woman shakes her head.

"No, honey, you didn't," Olivia replies gently, placing her coffee cup down on the nightstand and tossing the newspaper aside, focusing her attention fully on Amanda now. "You were very restless and upset, though. You were talking a lot, pleading with someone to stop hurting you."

Amanda presses her face into the pillow, her shoulders hunching up around her ears, wondering when these nightmares are going to end, _if_ they will ever end. She doesn't even remember what she had dreamed about specifically, but there is that lingering shadowy darkness in her brain, the darkness she is getting used to feeling upon waking, like something has happened that she can't quite grab ahold of, a wispy memory that is just out of her reach.

"Are you okay?" Olivia questions softly, and Amanda can feel that intense gaze penetrating into her as she stares down into the damp material of the pillowcase bunched underneath her head.

"Yeah, I'm alright," she murmurs, with a sigh. "I don't even know what I was dreaming about."

She feels Olivia's hand in her hair again, gently stroking through the wild blonde locks, and then looks up at her when the older woman's fingernails scratch her scalp lightly, like she is trying to get her attention. Her boss has a slightly hopeful smile on her face now, and Amanda struggles to sit up next to her in the bed, the drowning exhaustion that is still clinging to her threatening to pull her back down into the soft blankets, begging her to slip back into sleep once more. But she focuses her blurry, tired gaze on the woman beside her, Olivia looking like she wants to say something.

"So, I have some good news," the older woman says quietly. "I talked to Dr. Lindstrom this morning, and he can fit you in for a consultation first thing on Monday morning. He was able to clear part of his schedule for you right away."

"Thank you, Liv, I appreciate you doing this for me," Amanda replies with sincerity, although she is not a fan of therapists in general; doesn't necessarily think they are very helpful, but is certainly not going to tell Olivia this, after all the trouble the other woman has gone to on her behalf, after all the strings she has pulled. And this time she vows to actually stay for the appointment instead of slinking out of the office before she even has a chance to meet with this doctor.

Olivia is still gazing at her, the smile slowly disappearing from her face and a small frown pulling at her features now, looking strangely apologetic, and Amanda raises her eyebrows, guessing correctly that the older woman is not done speaking yet and has something else to say, but this time it is not good news.

"There's something that we need to discuss, Amanda," Olivia says, a slight hesitation in her tone now, and Amanda nods at her to continue, her heart sinking in her chest at the possibility of what her boss has to say to her, a small spool of dread unfurling within her, steeling herself for what is to come.

"Honey, I think it would be best if you take a leave of absence from the precinct for a little while," Olivia says in a soft, gentle tone of voice. "And I mean more than what you're doing now. You've had a week off and you're supposed to be taking another week, but that's not enough, Amanda. From what I've seen over the past week, especially since I got here yesterday, that's not nearly enough. I think you need to take an indefinite amount of time right now, and see how things progress with therapy, and with the panic attacks and nightmares and flashbacks."

She pauses, and must notice the stricken look on Amanda's face, because she leans down to grasp her arm, giving the trembling limb a comforting squeeze. "Sweetheart, you can't do your job like this," she continues, tone very low now, almost whispering. "You're hardly sleeping at all and when you do, you're having trouble distinguishing between dreams and reality. Everything is just very out of control for you right now. You need to take some time to get back on your feet and start the healing process, without worrying about work. You know what we deal with in our job, Amanda, how brutal and stressful it can be, even without enduring such a traumatic event. It's not forever; it's just a little longer than what we originally thought. We don't have to set a specific date right now for your return; we can just wait and see how things go over the next little while, okay?"

Amanda is staring at her now, aware that her eyes are filling with tears and she furiously blinks them away, sucking her lower lip into her mouth, tongue toying with the wound that she has bitten open over and over again. Her chest feels tight and there is a cold pit in her stomach, the fierce devastation slamming into her so hard, it takes her breath away. She struggles to reign herself in, to control the emotions that are threatening to burst forth, the rage and the sadness at the unfairness of it all, but if she is being perfectly honest with herself, she can't say that she is entirely surprised by this turn of events. It's not like she couldn't have predicted this, that this wasn't eventually going to happen, as she knows things have been heading in this direction for awhile now. And it certainly hasn't helped matters that her boss has spent the night here and has seen the absolute worst of the worst of her behaviour; Olivia has witnessed it all first hand, so it's not like Amanda can lie to her about the severity of her issues, or even try to brush it off like the older woman is making too big a deal out of things. Amanda has known for awhile that she has been heading down a dark road, and now Olivia knows it too.

Even though she realizes that this is for the best, that temptation to argue, to start shouting at her boss, to just scream at the unfairness of life, is struggling to worm its way out of her, and she turns over roughly on the mattress, can feel that the sudden violent shuddering of her body is shaking the entire bed as she yanks the covers up over her shoulders, burying her face hard into her pillow and squeezing her eyes shut, desperate to hold back the flood of tears, afraid if she lets loose the waterfall of emotions once again, they won't be able to be contained this time.

She feels a gentle touch against her back, and pulls away abruptly, knowing she is acting irrationally, that her boss is just looking out for her best interests, but she can't seem to help herself. "Olivia, don't touch me," she grits out through clenched teeth.

"Okay, I'm sorry," the older woman replies softly, and Amanda can hear that slight hitch in her tone again, like she had heard out on the couch earlier, and her heart aches, feeling torn between screaming at Olivia and turning over in the bed and throwing herself into her arms to weep uncontrollably. Instead she just lays there, trying to keep her trembling body still, her eyes remaining closed, swiping an impatient hand over the moisture that is starting to leak from beneath her long lashes.

"Do you want me to leave?" Olivia asks quietly, and there is a trace of vulnerability in her tone that she has never heard before, that makes Amanda frown.

She huffs out a harsh sigh, feeling confused, like she is being pulled in too many different directions, and when she speaks, her voice is broken. "No, Liv, please stay."

"Okay, I'll stay," the older woman whispers, and for several moments there is complete silence in the bedroom and no movement at all in the bed, aside from the shaking of her body that Amanda is still trying to get under control.

"I should never have sent you that text," she suddenly snaps out, feeling the anger at her situation boil over, even though she is aware that she is just taking it out on Olivia, that she couldn't have gotten through the night without her; and the familiar guilt and shame are coiled around each other again, twisting her stomach into a giant knot. She tries to contain the rage that is rapidly building within her, but finds that she cannot.

"I never should have asked you to come here," she continues, on a roll now. "If I had just dealt with everything on my own, instead of being the needy, clingy, pathetic mess that I've become, this wouldn't be happening, I would still have my job. It was a mistake to text you, to interrupt your night out with whoever you were with, whatever was happening." She feels that odd spike of jealousy again; Olivia living a normal life with actual relationships, while she has been cooped up in her apartment all week with her personal demons as her only company. She both regrets asking the other woman to come over here and is grateful that she had, as Amanda had not wanted to leave her boss' apartment the weekend before, had not wanted to be alone, and she wrestles with the conflicting emotions of wanting Olivia by her side constantly and also wanting her to leave.

Her brain is whirling with confusion, feeling that childish, immature need to lash out at the person who has done so much for her and hasn't given up on her, and before she can stop herself, she finds herself whispering "This is your fault."

Her throat immediately feels tight and she wants to take back what she has just said; hopes that the words she has spoken were too low to hear, but they are out there, hanging in the air between them, and the silence stretches out again, crackling with tension. She is contrite right away, wants to apologize, but when she parts her lips to speak, nothing comes out, and she stares hard at the wall in front of her, worrying again that she has ruined the friendship between them because she can't control her emotions, can't keep her stupid mouth shut, can't just accept what is happening with grace and agree to take the required time off to heal.

When Olivia hasn't responded after several minutes of quiet, Amanda frowns again, finally turning her head to glance over her shoulder at the other woman. Her boss is sitting there next to her with her legs folded up to her chest and her elbows resting on her knees, her chin in one hand and the index finger of her other hand poking up underneath the rim of her glasses, swiping quickly against one of her eyes.

Amanda scrambles up in the bed so she is sitting next to the older woman, and closes her eyes briefly as the room sways dizzily around her, swallowing down a wave of nausea, her body clearly indicating that it needs much more sleep than what it has been getting. "Liv..." Her voice trails off uncertainly as she stares her boss, feeling astounded and a little heartbroken, because it appears that Olivia is crying and trying to hide it, as she swipes her fingers beneath her glasses again and clears her throat, turning her head away from Amanda.

"Liv..." She reaches out a tentative hand toward the other woman and is relived when Olivia doesn't pull away. "I'm sorry," she says softly. "I was out of line. It's not your fault. I didn't mean it, okay?" Her hand is resting on the older woman's arm and she notices the slight tremble beneath her touch, like Olivia is also trying to reign in her emotions but is doing a much better job of it than Amanda is, as she is obviously in pain as well but is choosing to express it in a much more quiet, dignified manner.

Amanda curses herself for her quick temper and her inability to control it, and moves closer to Olivia on the bed again, so their bodies are touching now. "Are you alright, Liv?" Her throat still feels tight because she is fully aware of how much pain she is causing the other woman, not to mention whatever else has been going on in Olivia's life, and the tears that were trickling down her face when she had been curled up under the covers are threatening to make a return appearance. She blinks rapidly to keep herself under control, feeling stupid and silly next to her boss, who is just sitting there silently, her head still turned away, and Amanda notices her hand wipe across her face again.

"Liv." She gently strokes a hand through the thick dark hair that is obscuring the other woman's face, and finally Olivia turns to look at her, Amanda's breath catching in her throat at the look of sorrow etched on her boss' features, at the tears welled up in her eyes, and before she can stop herself, she is biting down hard on her lower lip again, the skin breaking open and blood trickling down her chin.

"Amanda, you need to stop doing that," Olivia chastises gently, reaching out to swipe her thumb across the streak of blood and wiping it away. "Stop hurting yourself." Amanda thinks she hears a double meaning in her tone, like the older woman is alluding to something else, and she knows she is making things worse by not accepting the twists and turns that her life is taking, and resisting the attempts that the other woman is making to help her. "I'm not the bad guy here," Olivia continues softly. "I want you to get the help and the rest that you need. I'm not trying to take you away from your job; I don't _want_ to, Amanda, but I think it's for the best right now, and I think you agree with me, even though you're pretending you don't."

Amanda sighs and shrugs, realizing that her hand is still buried in Olivia's hair, and pulls away, wanting to bring the other woman comfort, but still feeling annoyed and upset by the situation. "I know you're right, okay?" she admits in a low tone. "It doesn't mean I have to like it, though." She glances at her boss again and can't help the ache in her chest when she sees the sadness on the older woman's face. "Please don't cry because of me, Liv. I'm sorry, I really am."

"It's okay," Olivia replies softly, and takes her glasses off, placing them on the nightstand beside her coffee cup, and running her hands over her face in an exhausted manner. "And you don't have to like it, Amanda, but you do have to accept it. This is what's best for you right now." There is a brief pause. "I always try to do what's best but I just seem to end up disappointing people."

Amanda frowns as she listens to Olivia speak, not used to these glimpses into the vulnerable side of her personality, and she is all too familiar with the fact that Olivia just doesn't share much in general, her emotions included, even though she wishes the older woman would open up to her more. "What do you mean?" she hedges nervously. "You didn't disappoint me, Liv. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm just being my usual ungrateful, bitchy self," she chuckles ruefully.

The corner of Olivia's lip lifts slightly. "I just mean in general. At work, in my personal life, you. Everything."

Amanda is becoming more concerned, and she reaches out to touch the older woman's arm. "Care to elaborate on that, Liv? And I just said you didn't disappoint me, okay?" She pauses. "What happened last night, before you got here? Did you break up with someone?"

There is dead silence for a moment and Amanda arches a disbelieving eyebrow. "Did someone break up with _you_?"

The silence continues and Amanda shakes her head in wonder. "Liv, if someone broke up with you last night, that person is an idiot and they don't deserve you. You're too good for them." She is pretty sure that the person she is alluding to is Tucker, but is not completely certain, and Olivia is giving her no indication whatsoever if she is right or wrong on her theory.

"Amanda, I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I don't want to discuss this right now," Olivia sighs. "There's just too much going on in general, and I want to keep the focus on you."

"Liv, I just want to know if you're okay-"

She is cut off mid-sentence when the older woman raises her hand, indicating that the conversation is over. "Enough now, Amanda. Please."

Amanda rakes her hands back through the rat's nest of blonde hair sitting atop her head, feeling a stab of anger and frustration, and she slides over the edge of the mattress, planting her unsteady feet on the floor. "You know what, Olivia, I think I'm just going to get in the shower."

"Didn't you just have a shower before you went to sleep?"

"I need another one," Amanda huffs, feeling like there is something clinging to her skin that she needs to wash off, something that is lingering from her dreams; and also feeling the need for a break from the other woman.

"Why, sweetheart?" Olivia asks softly. "Why do you need so many showers?"

Amanda shrugs, choosing not to answer that question, as she has decided that she is completely done with talking about anything of a personal nature, at least when it come to her own problems. "That's none of your business, Olivia. Besides, I've had enough of this conversation and I'm getting pissed off."

"Yes, I can see that," Olivia replies dryly. "I think you've been pissed off since you woke up. You need more sleep, Amanda."

"Don't tell me what I need," she snaps. "You annoy me, you know that, Olivia? You've seen me at my absolute worst; naked, bawling my eyes out, you've had to help me get dressed and you've actually had to physically _carry_ me, and you can't even do me the courtesy of answering one single personal question?"

"I'm not here so we can talk about my personal issues," Olivia says firmly.

"Well, excuse me for being concerned," Amanda mutters. "I thought I would reciprocate but I'm obviously too much a mess for you to confide in; I'm too immature for you to have an equal friendship with." She whirls around to march from the bedroom and halts in her tracks briefly when she hears the other woman speak again.

"You're not helping your case by stomping away like a child, Amanda," Olivia points out, and this just heightens her rage, even though it wasn't said in a teasing, condescending manner; the older woman just sounding sad and depleted, but Amanda continues with her exit from the bedroom, stalking into the bathroom and slamming the door behind her.

She leans wearily against the door for a moment, trying to catch her breath and get a handle on all of the emotions swirling around inside of her, before stripping off her pajamas and climbing into the tub, wanting nothing more than to just stand in silence underneath the warm soothing spray of the shower. A sigh of relief escapes her lips as the water rains down on her, and she feels the intense anger slowing draining out of her as the overwhelming exhaustion takes over.

She has her face pressed into the tiles, eyes shut, and she is so worn out, so tired of everything, so physically and emotionally depleted, that she just leans there against the wall as the hot water beats down upon her, being lulled close to the edge of sleep. She slips just below the surface of consciousness, jerking awake again when she thinks she hears the bathroom door open over the spray of the shower. Amanda quirks an eyebrow, feeling that spike of irritation again, but she is too exhausted to open her eyes.

"Go away, Olivia," she mutters, annoyed that the older woman doesn't think she is even capable of showering on her own, but then remembering that she had wanted her boss in here with her when she had showered earlier in the day, and she huffs out a sigh. "Liv, I'm fine, okay? I'm sorry for the way I acted."

There is silence for a moment, and Amanda frowns but still doesn't open her eyes or even bother to turn around, her body seemingly molded to the tiles she is slumped against. There is a soft sound behind her, and her heart practically explodes out of her chest, her eyes flying open in alarm, when she hears the shower curtain swing open, and there is a large, heavy body suddenly pressed against hers from behind, a low, growling voice in her ear.

"You're such a little slut."

"Huh? What?" She stands there stock still for a second, too stunned to move, and then she is struggling desperately to turn around, but is pinned so hard against the wall that she can barely move, and she tries in vain to yank her face away from the filthy hand that is now covering her mouth and nose, obstructing her ability to breathe, fingernails digging sharply into the tender skin of her cheek.

"Little blonde whore," the rough voice sneers, and she squeezes her eyes shut, in disbelief that the man from the alley is now suddenly in her bathtub, one of his hands wandering down her body as the other continues to clamp tightly over her mouth.

"No, you're not real," she gasps out, when she is finally able to yank his hand away, and he laughs cruelly, scraping his nails harshly across the inside of her thigh.

"If I'm not real then why are you so scared of me?" he taunts, and Amanda slips in the tub, her feet sliding out from under her, before the man catches her, arm banding tightly around her ribs, slamming her face first into the wall once more.

His hand is over her mouth again and Amanda's heart is beating wildly in her chest, body shuddering uncontrollably, and she tries to twist her head away to finally get a look at him, to call out for Olivia, to beg him to stop, but he is too big, too strong, and she can't move.

"Don't scream," he whispers into her ear, but when he suddenly pulls his hand away from her mouth, that's exactly what she does.


	6. Chapter 6

Amanda is confused and disoriented, soaked to the bone and shivering violently, and her ears are ringing from all the screaming that is echoing in the small space, the sound bouncing off the tiles, and it doesn't occur to her that the loud, terrible sounds are pouring out of her own mouth. Her body is tired and sore and she can't figure out what has happened to the man that was just here a moment ago, as he seems to have disappeared as quickly as he had arrived, vanishing into thin air like he had never been here at all.

She is suddenly aware of a pair of jean-clad legs standing by the side of the tub and that she is looking up at them from the bottom, her vision blurry and distorted from the water raining down upon her. Again she is perplexed, as she had just been on her feet, slumped against the wall, the man's heavy body pinning her there, one hand clamped tightly over her mouth and the other doing vile things to her body while she had been helpless and terrified, and she wonders if he had somehow gotten her down on the ground so he can continue on with his assault from a different position. From this vantage point, the person in front of her is tall and towering over her, and she cowers momentarily, thinking that the man has returned to finish what he had started, and wondering when he had stepped out of the tub. Or perhaps this is his friend, the friend she had thankfully never gotten the chance to meet that night in the alley, the one whose car he had been waiting for, so they could have their fun with her in the backseat, out of the pouring rain.

"Oh my god, Amanda!"

The voice that speaks above her is frantic, alarmed, a hint of sob in the familiar tone, and is unmistakably female, and she furrows her brow, her eyes squeezing shut against the continuous assault of bone-chilling water, and the confusion is all-consuming now, as she knows the water had just been practically hot enough to scald her a moment ago, that she had wanted it warm and soothing, and is unable to come to a satisfying conclusion as to why she has suddenly wanted the temperature so freezing cold that her muscles have stiffened painfully and her teeth are chattering hard enough to make her jaw ache.

"Amanda, talk to me!"

The mystery person in the bathroom with her is now climbing over the side of the tub, a foot planting itself down right down next to her shaking thigh, and another horrified shriek rips from her throat as she scrambles to get away on her hands and knees, sliding repeatedly on the slippery surface, unable to gain enough purchase on the wet porcelain, and she is sprawled completely in the bottom of the tub now, her limbs tangled up with someone else's. Another strangled cry emits from her parted lips, wondering when this will end, when this man will leave her alone; not understanding how he knows her name and had managed to locate her apartment building, her unit, how he had gotten in here, especially when someone else has been staying with her, watching over her and protecting her...

Her heart is in her throat as she suddenly remembers that Olivia is in her home, that her boss had stayed overnight and is currently sitting in her bed, annoyed and upset with Amanda's bad attitude, and she is overwhelmed with fear for the other woman, wondering if the man and his friend had gotten to her, if they had hurt her, if she is even still alive. She feels a sharp stab of sorrow at the thought of Olivia being harmed in any way, and struggles against the strong arms that are trying to wrap themselves around her and lift her off the bottom of the tub. She needs to get to her boss, needs to help her, needs to save her...

"Olivia!" she screams, pure frenzied panic in her voice, and she wrestles with the person behind her, brain whirling with confusion, so exhausted and not able to comprehend what is going on, and for a moment she sags against the other body, feeling so depleted that she doesn't think she can make another move.

When she feels her arms being pinned down against her sides, she finds another small burst of energy, and struggles wildly, lashing out with her foot, her toes connecting painfully with the tap on the side of the tiled wall, and she winces briefly but doesn't stop, determined to get away this time, resolute in not letting herself be violated anymore, desperate to figure out what has happened to Olivia.

"Liv!"

"I'm right here, sweetheart, I'm right here."

She hears the voice behind her, softer now, speaking directly into her ear, and she is aware that it is much quieter in the tub now, that the water has been turned off and she is no longer being pelted by the frigid spray of the shower head, but is still unable to figure out what is happening. She continues with her struggle, the strong arms holding onto her so tightly now, that she knows she can't get away, is trapped again and is at this brutal man's mercy once more.

"God, please stop," she begs brokenly. "Please stop hurting me. I can't take it anymore." She is sobbing now and her brow wrinkles slightly when she thinks she hears a similar sound from the person behind her, that they are also crying, but it doesn't make any sense that this cruel stranger would be so distraught about harming her, and she continues to plead for mercy. "I don't want to get in the car, I don't want you to hurt Olivia."

"Honey, no one is hurting me and no one is hurting you either. There's no one here but us." There is a hitch in the tone of the person behind her, a shaky intake of breath, and although she is slowly becoming more aware of her surroundings now, she still fights to get one of her arms free, her fingernails raking across one of the legs that is banded tightly against her own.

There is a small squawk of pain and she feels momentarily satisfied, vindicated in her mild revenge, and is intent on repeating the gesture, when the stern voice behind her finally makes her pause and cock her head to the side, realizing this situation may not be what it seems. "Amanda, wake _up_."

She draws in a sharp breath and now knows with one hundred percent certainty that it is Olivia behind her and she stops moving, her body sagging with relief in the other woman's embrace, and she can hear Olivia crying softly, and mistakenly thinks it is because her boss has been hurt by the same man who had hurt her, and a white hot rages bubbles up inside of her.

"I'm going to kill him," she mutters.

"Amanda, _stop."_ There is a firm hand grasping her chin now, and her head is being turned around and tilted up to meet Olivia's gaze, the other woman staring down at her from above, the side of Amanda's face pressed against her chest as she is cradled in the older woman's arms, and there are dark, bloodshot eyes penetrating into her own now, her boss' expression pleading with her to snap out of it and recognize her surroundings.

"God, Amanda, I am so sorry." Olivia's voice is high and laced with alarm, a tinge of panic in her tone, and Amanda frowns at the uncharacteristic behaviour, much more concerned for her boss than she is for herself, still convinced that Olivia has been harmed in some way and that is why she is acting like this. "I am so sorry," the older woman repeats. "I didn't realize...God, I didn't realize what was happening..."

"That he got in?" Amanda murmurs in confusion. "You didn't realize he had gotten in? I don't understand, Liv. I always lock my door..."

"No, sweetheart, no," Olivia is muttering, rocking her gently for a moment. "I didn't realize that I had fallen asleep. I was doing the crossword puzzle again and I had just laid down in the bed to rest for a minute and I was out like a light. The next thing I knew, you were screaming in here...You've been in the shower for nearly an hour, Amanda. I am so sorry."

"What?" Amanda can't seem to shake the stubborn cobwebs from her brain, still doesn't fully comprehend what is going on, that perhaps the man from the alley was never here in the first place, and that she is once again being tormented by her nightmares, the dreams so brutally realistic, she can actually still feel his hand against her mouth, can feel an ache between her legs.

She is suddenly fully aware of just how cold she is, naked and shuddering violently in the other woman's embrace, and she curls herself tighter into her boss' arms, too exhausted and frozen and perplexed to feel even an ounce of embarrassment. "Liv, I'm cold," she whimpers.

"I know you are," Olivia murmurs, her arms tightening around her for a moment. "Your lips are blue, Amanda, and so are your fingernails. We need to get you out of here and dried off and warm."

Amanda feels the older woman shifting behind her, making a move to stand up and trying to lift her, but her body feels like it has turned to jelly, and she is too tired and weak to move, her limp limbs weighed down with water and fatigue, her muscles coiled painfully from the frigid spray of the shower that had been pouring down on her for a significant amount of time.

"Amanda, come on, sweetie, help me out here," Olivia says, grunting slightly with effort, and Amanda can feel the older woman's hands underneath her arms, trying to hoist her up, but she remains slumped where she is, murmuring "I'm too cold" and then Olivia slips behind her, feet skidding on the slick surface, and they are both sliding back down into the bottom of the tub, sprawled together in a tangle of wet limbs, her boss' icy, drenched clothing pressing into her bare skin and making her feel even more chilled than she already is.

"Okay, hold on," Olivia mutters, and Amanda closes her eyes, unable to keep them open anymore, feeling the other woman's arm reaching over her head to turn the shower back on, and she shrieks in surprise as the water suddenly rains back down upon her, as cold as it was before it was turned off.

"Liv, stop!" she moans, covering her face with her hands, and shivering so hard she doesn't think it will ever end, that she will ever be warm again.

"Sorry, honey," Olivia replies softly. "Just hold on a second, I'll fix it."

The water slowly becomes hotter, warming up bit by bit, and Amanda sighs in relief as she feels it seeping into her bones, can feel her sore muscles unclenching, and starts to become much more physically comfortable, snuggling into Olivia and feeling the other woman's arms around her again, her hand smoothing her sopping wet hair away from her face.

"We'll just stay in here for a couple of minutes," Olivia murmurs. "Just until you get warmed up enough."

Amanda's previous lack of embarrassment at her situation has suddenly been replaced by a feeling of complete mortification that is hitting her full force as she is finally able to fully comprehend what has taken place in the bathroom during the past several minutes. It dawns on her that this is now the lowest she has ever sunk, that she is naked in the bathtub with her boss who is still fully clothed, that she has completely lost her mind during yet another nightmare, and that she has once again physically harmed Olivia, as she has a vivid memory of scraping her fingernails across the other woman's leg.

"Oh my god," she whispers, covering her face with her hands again. "Is it possible to actually die of embarrassment? Because I think I'm about to."

"Amanda, it's okay," Olivia soothes, leaning over the side of the tub to grab a towel off the floor, and draping it over her body. "Just concentrate on warming up right now and feeling better, and then we can talk about things in a little while, alright? I'm extremely worried here, sweetheart, and to be completely honest, you not having any clothes on is the least of my concerns right now."

"So he really wasn't in here?" Amanda murmurs, digging her teeth hard into her lower lip before she can stop herself.

"There hasn't been anyone in here except the two of us, since I got here last night," Olivia says firmly, and Amanda feels a gentle hand brushing against her chin, the other woman silently reminding her to stop trying to reopen the wound on her lip.

Amanda is quiet now, curling into the other woman, despite her utter embarrassment, and closing her eyes again, feeling overwhelmed by her own behaviour, by her lack of control, and her chest tightens with trepidation as she wonders if Olivia is going to suggest going to the hospital again. She is dead set against it and will not even entertain the possibility if it is brought up, and she hopes that her boss keeps quiet on the subject so they don't start fighting again. She only has to wait another day and a half to talk to Dr. Lindstrom, and figures she can hold out until then, without it becoming some big dramatic scene with Olivia trying to drag her into the emergency room against her will. She knows she is not above digging in her heels and screaming like a toddler if it comes down to that, and she recognizes her lack of maturity with the issue, but is resolute in staying at home, at trying to deal with her issues on her own, at least until she can see Olivia's therapist.

She feels her heart rate begin to pick up at the thought of everything spiraling out of control to the point that her life may no longer be own, that she will be forever ruled by nightmares and flashbacks and anxiety, desperate gambling cravings and therapy appointments, that she may never be able to return to her job, and it still stuns her that so much has changed in only the space of a few short weeks, that she does not even recognize herself anymore. She sucks in a sharp breath, that overwhelming feeling all-encompassing now, and the shaking of her body starts up yet again, and she tries to control it so Olivia won't notice, so she won't get any ideas about Amanda needing help at the hospital instead of waiting to see Dr. Lindstrom, but of course her boss notices right away.

"What's wrong?" Olivia asks immediately, that concern still laced through her tone, and Amanda feels the older woman trying to turn her head toward her again, so Olivia can look her in the eye, but she refuses to move, keeps her gaze fixed firmly on the side of the tub, not wanting her boss to see the wild expression on her face. "Are you still cold, honey?"

Amanda sighs inwardly in relief, and nods right away, keeping her gaze averted, and feels Olivia's hands underneath her arms again, tugging gently to get her moving.

"Okay, let's go into your bedroom and get you tucked into bed so you can get warm," she says softly, and Amanda allows herself to be helped out of the tub this time, grabbing a towel to dry her body off with shaking hands and then wrapping it around herself.

Olivia is completely drenched, water sluicing off her sweater and jeans, the clothing clinging to her tightly, creating giant puddles on the floor, and she tells Amanda that she will meet her in the bedroom in a minute. She trudges into her room, head down, long hair slicked to the sides of her face and dripping water over her shoulder blades and down her back. She is tempted to climb right into bed without even taking her towel off, the need for warmth and rest outweighing the need to actually dry off and get dressed, but she wearily rubs the towel over her body before pulling on a long sleeved T-shirt and yoga pants and tucking herself back into bed, aware that her hair is still soaking wet, but too tired to do anything about it.

Olivia returns to her room with a towel wrapped around her and shrugs on the robe of Amanda's that she had been wearing earlier, pulling the towel out from underneath the garment and making a move to toss it aside, before her gaze focuses on Amanda huddled beneath the blankets, slowly sliding further beneath the covers, her head falling onto the pillow.

"Hey, sit up there for a minute, honey," the older woman says softly. "Don't fall back to sleep yet. You're getting water everywhere." Amanda feels her boss' arms around her again, gently lifting her into a sitting position, and she is so exhausted and overwhelmed that her eyes are welling with tears, and she resists the urge to sink back down onto the pillow.

Olivia seems to notice her distress and nudges her to scoot forward on the bed so she can slip in behind her, tucked between Amanda and the headboard. "Do you want me to help you with your hair?" she murmurs, and Amanda nods, her head falling forward and eyelids dropping closed as she feels Olivia working the towel through her long wet locks, rubbing it briskly over her scalp and down the back of her neck.

"Uh oh, you've got that really terrible hair style going on again here," the older woman teases gently, and a corner of Amanda's lip lifts in a slight smile. "Do you want to brush it out and dry it with the hair dryer before going back to sleep?"

"Too tired," Amanda mutters, not even feeling capable of producing full sentences at this point, knowing the severe lack of sleep over the past few weeks, combined with not eating enough, and the constant nightmares and anxiety, are starting to take their toll. She feels like she could sleep for a year and still not be rested enough.

"Okay, let me help you," Olivia says softly, and Amanda gestures wordlessly to the nightstand, where a brush is sitting.

The other woman is so methodical and gentle in her ministrations, as she slowly works the brush through the snarled, soaking knots of blonde hair, that the tears that have welled in Amanda's eyes are threatening to spill down her cheeks. She is filled with gratitude at the care and concern that her boss has been showing her since the assault, and she is careful to try to tamp down the strong emotions that are brewing within her, as she can't recall ever feeling this way with anyone else in her life, has never been shown this level of friendship, this amount of kindness, has never felt so close to anyone ever before.

Her heart aches when she thinks of Olivia leaving her apartment at some point soon, leaving her all alone again, with no job to return to on Monday, a therapy appointment the only thing that awaits her, no colleagues and friends to share her week with; the endless, lonely days that are likely to be filled with panic and nightmares and flashbacks stretching out before, and she stifles a sudden sob.

"What?" Olivia asks, one hand gripping her shoulder while the other pauses with the brush still in her hair. "What is it? Sorry, did I hurt you? Am I brushing too hard?"

Amanda shakes her head, swallowing thickly, not trusting herself to speak, and she feels both of the older woman's hands on her upper arms now, gripping firmly. "What is it, Amanda? Talk to me."

"Liv, I need to come back to work," she pleads, before she can stop herself, and winces at the pathetic note in her tone, her voice coming out whiny and sad, like a child's.

She hears Olivia sigh behind her, feels the squeeze of her boss' hands around her arms. "Honey, we talked about this. It's not a good idea right now. Too be perfectly honest, Amanda, I'm surprised you're even bringing it up, after what just happened in the bathroom. Sweetheart, you are barely able to function properly in your own home right now. Do you really think you can handle what we have to do at work, what see every single day?"

Amanda rocks forward on the bed, suddenly gripped with emotions so intense that she feels the need to flee the room, to get away, the breakdown beginning to crash hard upon her, and Olivia's arms are sliding around her waist, anchoring her gently to the mattress.

"Amanda, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," the other woman is whispering into her ear. "I wish it didn't have to be this way. I know you're in agony and it's so hard to watch, honey. Dr. Lindstrom is going to help you, okay? He'll get you on the right track with things. I know everything will start looking up again soon."

"That's not what I want," Amanda mutters, twisting around in Olivia's embrace and looking her in the eye.

"What do you mean?" Olivia asks, and the confusion is evident on her face and in her tone of voice, her expression fixed in a frown. "What do you mean that's not what you want? I thought you said it was alright; I thought we agreed-" She cuts herself off and stares at Amanda. "I don't understand, honey. What is it that you want?"

"I want to come back to work," she repeats and then pauses for a moment, feeling a spike of hesitation. "I want _you_ ," Amanda admits, before she loses her nerve, seemingly unable to stop herself from saying what she has wanted to say since staying at Olivia's apartment the weekend before, dreading the separation that she is sure will be happening soon, not able to stand the thought of being all by herself with only her dark thoughts for company. "I don't want you to leave, Liv." The tears are rolling down her cheeks now, and she stares at the older woman, Olivia's dark, empathetic gaze fixed on her own, still frowning slightly as they regard each other intently.

The emotions that Amanda has been desperately trying to hold back come bursting forth now in a torrent of sobs. "Please stay with me, Olivia," she begs. "Don't leave me all alone again."


	7. Chapter 7

When Amanda opens her eyes to a pitch dark and silent room, she is momentarily overcome with panic, not feeling Olivia snuggled in behind her anymore, and reaching out her arm toward the emptiness of the bed next to her, the sheets cold, indicating that the other woman has been gone for quite some time now. She squints at the clock, realizing that she has been sleeping for several more hours again, as it is mid evening now. She looks wildly around the inky blackness of the bedroom, trying to locate Olivia, but she is nowhere in the sight, and Amanda is afraid that the older woman has abandoned her, that she has driven her away with her intense neediness and clinginess, her explosive nightmares and anxiety, and disturbing propensity for violence while dreaming, and that Olivia has finally decided that her colleague is just too much of a challenge and a burden, too much for her to handle.

She cocks her head to the side when she realizes that there are noises coming from the kitchen, the clinking of dishes, the banging of pots and pans, and smells the delicious aroma of food cooking, her stomach suddenly growling with hunger, her mouth watering with anticipation, and this is the first time in weeks that she actually feels like she has somewhat of an appetite. A wave of relief is sweeping through her as she swings her legs over the side of the mattress, feeling a bit steadier on her feet now than she had earlier, ridiculously happy that Olivia is apparently making dinner for them in her kitchen, instead of fleeing the apartment to get away from Amanda's erratic, disconcerting behaviour.

She had cried to herself to sleep in the other woman's arms that afternoon, begging her to stay, to let her come back to work, not to leave her alone with her demons, and Olivia had held her and rocked her, assuring her that she would stay the night again, and they could discuss the situation tomorrow, of a possible more long-term living arrangement, while Amanda gets back on her feet. She is immensely relieved that she definitely has at least one more night with Olivia, and will have company throughout the long, dark hours, when she is haunted by her nightmares and her panic, when the desperate need to gamble threatens to choke her, and she decides she will worry tomorrow about the longevity of Olivia's stay here, and will just enjoy her time with her tonight.

"Hey, there, sleepyhead," Olivia greets her warmly, when Amanda stumbles into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes and squinting against the bright light. The room is very warm, pots and pans bubbling away on the stove, the smell of the food even more enticing now that she is actually in the same room with it, and her heart melts a little as she looks at her boss, Olivia appearing perfectly at home in her kitchen, standing at the stove, stirring something with a giant spoon, clad in a borrowed sweatsuit of Amanda's, with an apron thrown over her clothing, and a streak of sauce smeared across one cheek.

"I hope you're hungry," her boss says, giving her a wide smile. "I'm making spaghetti and meatballs, with garlic bread and caesar salad. I thought we could enjoy a late dinner together. I don't think you've eaten anything all day, honey."

"Wow, Liv," she says, looking around in awe, very impressed that the older woman has managed to cobble together a meal like this with the meager contents of food available in her fridge and cupboards. "I didn't think I actually had anything to eat in here."

"You have plenty of food here, Amanda," Olivia replies gently, reaching up to wipe the sauce from her face. "You just haven't been eating it, honey." She gestures down to the long sleeved T-shirt and yoga pants that Amanda is still dressed in, the clothes designed to hug her body in a form fitting way, but hanging loosely off her small frame, a frame that seems to be shrinking by the day.

Amanda shrugs and resists the urge to bite down on her bottom lip again. "I just haven't been that hungry lately," she murmurs.

"I know," Olivia says quietly. "I'm hoping to stimulate your appetite a bit with this meal, though. And there's a Jim Carey movie marathon on TV tonight. I thought we could eat dinner on the couch and have some laughs. A nice, light evening sounds good, doesn't it? I think you need a bit of a break from everything, honey. I know this day has been very challenging for you. There's plenty of time to talk about the heavy stuff tomorrow."

Amanda smiles at her and nods, wanting nothing more than a brief break from the ever-present black mood of the past few weeks. "That sounds great, Liv. I can't think of a better way to spend my evening."

Olivia smiles back at her, and they stand in front of the stove together, Amanda helping her boss prepare the rest of the meal, before taking their loaded plates into the living room and placing them on the coffee table while they get settled beside each other on the couch. For the next little while, they eat good, hearty, comfort food, while laughing at the ridiculous antics on the screen in front of them, and Amanda finds herself glancing at Olivia out of the corner of her eye from time to time, the other woman seeming to genuinely enjoy her company and being at her place, and a feeling of warmth infuses her, that she finally has someone to share an evening like this with, that for once her brain is not full of the darkness of the past few weeks, the faceless, nameless man who is still out there running loose somewhere, her anxiety settled to a point that she actually feels somewhat normal. This must be what it is like to have a best friend, someone close, someone who cares, and this little scene between them feels oddly domestic, and Amanda couldn't be happier with the situation, is so glad that Olivia has agreed to stay another night, and she tries to squash down that tiny spark of hope inside of her that maybe the older woman will agree to stay much longer. She wants to prepare herself for the fact that Olivia might not be amendable to that, though, and doesn't want to be devastated when she is left all alone again.

When they are done their delicious dinner, Olivia clears the dishes away, taking them into the kitchen, and returning to the living room to settle on the couch again, draping a blanket over both of their laps. Amanda is sitting close beside her, but not touching, and she shifts a little nearer, feeling that need once again for physical contact, but not wanting to overwhelm the older woman after she has agreed to stay overnight again, has cooked them dinner, and has seen Amanda through a horrifically awful day. She is worried that Olivia might need some space right now, so she hovers uncertainly next to her underneath the blanket, and tries to keep her attention on the TV.

Olivia seems to sense her distress, that Amanda is no longer entirely comfortable and has grown somewhat agitated and restless, because she suddenly feels a pinky finger brushing up against her own beneath the blanket, and she tries to hold in a sudden, grateful grin, reminded of the way that Olivia had been trying to get her attention at the drive-in movie theater a couple of weeks ago, before Amanda had confided in her about the gambling relapse and assault. She hooks her own finger around the older woman's and squeezes, Olivia squeezing back, and keeps her eyes fixed on the TV screen, aware of the smile playing at the corners of her lips.

They remain this way until the end of the first movie, and as the second movie begins, Amanda finds herself in need of more physical contact, is desperate to feel those warm, comforting arms around her, but is extremely hesitant, doesn't know how to ask for something so simple after everything that Olivia has already done for her, that she is continuing to do now. She has never been big on hugs or displays of physical affection in general, has never been considered a touchy-feely person, and it still puzzles her how much she seems to crave this kind of intimacy with the one person she probably shouldn't; her superior. She is aware of just how much she has changed over the past several weeks, and this is the one of the biggest changes of all, the near constant desire she has to be close to Olivia. There is just something about the older woman, something that radiates safety and security, and something else too, something she can't quite put her finger on.

Again, Olivia seems to sense the need she has, seems to be very in tune with Amanda's feelings, as she suddenly unlocks her finger from Amanda's and slides an arm around her shoulder, the other arm wrapping around her stomach, pulling her close underneath the blanket. Amanda sighs in contentment, glad that she has been able to communicate this intense need without words, and she snuggles into the older woman's embrace, burying her face in the crook of her neck and closing her eyes. The noise of the movie seems to fade into the background, and the only thing she can concentrate on is how good the other woman smells and how lovely Olivia's laugh is, when Jim Carey does something particularly ridiculous on the screen. Her boss doesn't laugh nearly enough, and the sound is beautiful, like music to her ears, a nice break from hearing her own moans and screams while in the midst of a nightmare, and she finds herself being lulled to sleep yet again, by the easy, comfortable atmosphere, the warm blanket tucked around them, the silly movie, and resting in the embrace of the person she trusts more than anyone else in the world. Amanda can't remember the last time she has felt this content, and she finds herself sinking under that soft, velvety veil of sleep yet again.

xxx

She comes to with a start, and is suddenly aware of the fact that she is shaking and sweating, soft whimpers emanating from her throat, her mouth feeling dry, and she runs her tongue around her lips, trying to moisten them. There is a sharp buzzing sound in her ears and she can hear the TV still playing dimly in the background, can feel gentle fingers running through her hair and caressing the moist skin of her face, a soft voice urging her to breathe slowly, telling her that something isn't real, but Amanda can't make out the exact words, just the soothing lilt of the voice, and she concentrates on that as she tries to calm her rapidly fluttering heart rate.

She has no idea what is happening; just that she appears to be sprawled across Olivia's legs now, one of her hands clutching tightly onto the other woman's knee, and that she has just been suffused with an intense fear, can feel it clinging stubbornly onto her, her body primed for an attack of some kind, but can't quite grab ahold of it, doesn't know what she is supposed to be afraid of.

"That's it, just try to calm down," Olivia is whispering, and Amanda can feel the soft touches on her back now, against her T-shirt, which seems to have ridden partway up her ribs during her struggle. "Deep, slow breaths, sweetheart. It was just a dream. You're safe."

Her heart continues to race at uncomfortable speed and there is a nervous knot in her stomach, her hands and feet tingling with anxiety, and that random, diffuse cloud of darkness is in her brain again, like something was there and then gone, leaving behind this clinging panic, this sensation of danger that won't let go, and her breath is coming out in quick, short pants now; her brain still not understanding what the problem is, but her body's reaction spinning out of control. She feels those familiar invisible claws around her throat again, squeezing tight and digging in, intent on cutting off her air supply, and she gasps and wheezes, truly scared now, and experiences the disturbing sensation of trying to suck air in through a straw.

"Hey, Amanda, it's okay, sweetheart. It was a nightmare. It's not real. He's not here, honey." Olivia's voice is more stern now, cutting through the panicked haze in her mind, and she feels the older woman's touch on her back become firmer, fingers digging in to massage tense, coiled muscles, but any calmness that has been trying to break through the panic is completely obliterated, and Amanda has lost complete control, is choking now, her hands clawing at her throat, and Olivia grabs her around the waist, hauling her up into her arms, cradling her in tight embrace on her lap.

"Amanda, listen to my voice," she says, tone still stern and becoming louder as she speaks. "You are right here in your living room with me, on your couch, watching goofy movies, okay? You're not anywhere else. And no one else is in here. It's just the two of us. You are warm and safe and everything is fine."

Amanda continues to shake and twitch in the older woman's arms, trying in vain to concentrate on her voice, to listen to her words, but the stubborn panic will not loosen its hold on her, chest tight and lungs bursting as she is desperate to draw in a breath. She can see him now, that shadowy figure in her mind, can hear the rain pounding down in the alley, can smell the cigarette smoke lingering in the air. Her senses are on fire and everything is enhanced, acute, and she has the strange feeling that she is no longer where she is supposed to be, that her perception of what is happening is very skewed, that something isn't right.

"Come on, sweetheart, breathe for me," Olivia urges, her hand tangled up in Amanda's hair now, Amanda's face pressed into her neck, her sharp, ragged breaths puffing air against the older woman's skin.

"I-I'm not here," she chokes out. "I think I'm somewhere else. I don't feel like I'm here."

"You _are_ here," Olivia replies sternly. "It's just the panic attack, honey, I promise. You are here, in your own home, with me."

"I feel like I'm back in that alley with _him_ ," Amanda whimpers, barely able to get the words out over her gasping breaths, and she clutches feebly at the other woman's arms, desperate for something to hold onto, something to ground her to reality, so she is not floating off somewhere else in her brain, someplace she shouldn't be, untethered to this world. "He won't stop touching me."

She suddenly feels Olivia's hand slide beneath the bottom of her T-shirt, her warm palm resting flat against her bare back, fingers splayed out across her sweaty skin. "You are here," she repeats, softer this time. "You're here with me. You're not with him. This is my hand touching you, not his." She keeps her hand where it is for a moment before moving it around in slow, firm circles, starting small in the middle of her back and working her way out to wider circles that encompass her ribs and her spine and her shoulder blades. She keeps rubbing, reassuring Amanda over and over that she is at home and safe.

Bit by bit, Amanda begins to feel the bonds of panic loosen its overwhelming hold on her, and her head droops forward as her painful muscles start to uncoil themselves, her eyes drifting shut, and she is surprised to find tears spilling down her cheeks, doesn't even know when they had started, has not even been aware of their presence. She tries to fully concentrate on Olivia's hand smoothing over her back, tries to banish the demons from her brain, needs her body to stop this fight-or-flight instinct it keeps jumping to, going from calm and sedate to overwhelmed and panicked in the space of seconds. She feels confused, at once exhausted and restless, her body being pulled in two different directions.

"Liv, this is never going to stop," she whispers. "I'm never going to have a break. I think I'm going crazy. I'm losing my mind."

"You're not crazy," Olivia assures her quietly, her hand still keeping up the comforting sweeping motion over her back, moving up around her shoulders and squeezing the nape of her neck. "They will stop, I promise. You just need to learn how to get control over them, so they're not controlling you all time. They can be controlled, honey, trust me on that."

"How do you know?" Amanda chokes out.

"Because I used to have the same problem," Olivia murmurs, so softly that Amanda can hardly hear her. "After Lewis...well, things were rough for a long time. I didn't tell anyone what was going on, I didn't let on how bad things were, but my life felt very out of control, like yours is feeling for you right now. Dr. Lindstrom was the one who got me through it; he made me see that what was happening was able to be controlled, if I could learn how to get a handle on it. And eventually it was, Amanda. It got better. I'm not saying things will ever be perfect, but they don't have to be like this. It can be better than this."

Amanda is silent for a few minutes, the soft rubbing of her back and occasional caress of her face to wipe away her tears lulling her back into a more comfortable state, and she feels herself coming down yet again from the buzzing and tingling and breathless anxiety, her limbs shuddering in response to the sudden attack on her body, her heart rate still fluttering quickly but lessening somewhat. She is heartbroken for the woman who is holding her, has had no idea that Olivia had been so broken and had gone through it all without the help and friendship of her colleagues, had chosen not to confide in them about what was happening to her. She is glad that the older woman is confiding in her now, though; that Olivia feels comfortable enough with her to share such a private, devastating part of her life, and she locks her arms around the other woman's ribs, thumbs stroking gently along her own sweatshirt that Olivia is wearing, wanting to soothe her boss as much as the older woman is soothing her.

"Liv, I want you to help me," she admits, her voice coming out hoarse and rough. "You've been through this; you know what it's like."

"Honey, I will help you as much as I possibly can," Olivia says softly, rocking her from side to side, her fingers tracing patterns along Amanda's back. "But I'm not a professional, sweetheart. I can only do so much for you." She pulls away for a moment to look Amanda in the eye, their gazes locked intensely together. "I know you have reservations about therapy, but promise me that you'll go this time. Promise me that you're going to get help for yourself, and you're not just saying that you will."

Amanda stares at her in silence for a moment, before reaching down to grip one of the hands that is wrapped around her. "I promise, Liv."

"Good," Olivia whispers, smoothing her damp hair back from her face. "It's so hard watching you suffer like this, Amanda. I want you to be okay."

Amanda breaks eye contact, has to look away from the intensity of the other woman's gaze, as she asks her question, all too aware of the fact that she has already asked way too much from her boss. "Liv, will you come with me?" she murmurs quietly. "Will you come with me to see Dr. Lindstrom? I mean, it's okay if you can't...I know you have work..."

"Of course I'll come with you," Olivia answers right away, and Amanda breathes a small sigh of relief, feeling the older woman's fingers flexing on her back for a moment, fingernails lightly scraping her skin. "I can take part of the morning off on Monday."

"Thank you so much," Amanda whispers gratefully, and her chest suddenly feels tight, not sure what she has done to deserve someone like Olivia in her life, has no idea what she would have done without her for the past week.

They are quiet for several minutes, just holding onto each other while Amanda continues to calm down, relieved that her breathing is coming much easier now, relishing in the soft touches to her skin, Olivia's hand keeping her grounded in reality, and there is a strange contrast in the living room, one of the Jim Carey movies still playing in the background, the noise and dialogue so silly, so out of context, when it feels like Amanda's world is falling apart, the woman whose arms are wrapped around her the only thing anchoring her here.

Finally they pull away from one another, and Amanda notices with no small amount of wonder that Olivia seems as reluctant as she is to part ways with her, to break the physical contact between them. They retire to Amanda's bedroom for the night, no conversation needed about where Olivia will be sleeping, and the immense relief that Amanda feels is palpable when they climb under the covers next to each other. Olivia is once again wearing the too-tight pink and purple pajama set that she had worn the night before, and Amanda can't help teasing her lightly as they settle down to sleep, Olivia bantering back with her, and Amanda's heart is suddenly seizing in her chest when she thinks of how it will be when the older woman isn't here with her anymore, when she is alone again without companionship and safety and comfort.

She doesn't voice what she is thinking, though, determined to put those thoughts out of her head for the night, and to try and remain in the present, Olivia snuggling up to her from behind, molding into her body like she belongs here, like she's always been here, and she closes her eyes, her fingers lacing through the other woman's, their joined hands resting against her stomach.

Even though Amanda has slept most of the day away, she is still hopeful for a good sleep that night, as her body is still so lacking in the rest that it needs, but instead of settling down and dropping off into slumber as quickly as Olivia seems to have, she finds that she is now restless and wired and can't seem to calm her racing thoughts, her emotions and feelings on everything that is happening; the nightmares, the anxiety, the flashbacks, Olivia, spinning out of control and whirling around her brain in a confusing kaleidoscope of colour. She finds that she cannot stay still in the bed, even while enveloped in Olivia's comforting embrace, so she gently eases herself out from the other woman's arms to exit the bedroom so she doesn't wake her.

She is unable to come up with anything that she wants to do, after having flipped aimlessly through the TV channels and surfed the internet with disinterest and picked up the book she has been trying to read for the past month but hasn't been able to finish. She paces the apartment from one end to the other, feeling trapped in here like an animal, listening to Olivia snore from the bedroom, wishing she could fall into unconsciousness with her. She hasn't left the apartment for awhile now, has only been leaving for meetings, and feels the urgent need for some fresh air, mingling in with another need, one she has had to continually push down over the past few weeks, but one that keeps rising stubbornly to the surface, demanding to be taken notice of. It is hard to believe that through all of the darkness and trauma of the intensity of her nightmares and panic, of her desperate desire to have Olivia with her at all times, that this need is still there, never far from her thoughts, always resting just below the surface.

Amanda stands at the window, peering out cautiously into the dark night, wondering what kind of monsters await her if she chooses to step a toe out the door, to venture beyond the little bubble of her home, and out into the world again; if she chooses to do the one thing she has been working so hard not to do, all too aware of what had happened the last time she had done this, her life crashing down around her and leaving her wandering through the wreckage, unable to pick up the pieces.

But the pull to leave the apartment to seek out a place, any place, to fulfill her need, her desire, is very strong, and she stand there rigidly at the window, watching the nighttime city life, hands clenched into fists, willing herself to stay put, to just crawl back into bed with Olivia, but her limbs are twitching again, not with anxiety this time, but with something else, her addiction rising up to consume her, urging her to just give in, to do the one thing that brings her pleasure, that will banish everything else from her brain and give some peace, even if only for a brief while.

She blows out a breath and then turns toward the bedroom, her teeth digging into her lower lip before she stops herself, gently pushing open the door and pausing there for a moment. Amanda stands there in the doorway with her arms crossed, shaking her head slightly in wonder as she observes Olivia in slumber. She feels a hint of amusement that her classy, dignified boss is now lying flat out on her back in the middle of the bed, arms splayed out to the sides, mouth wide open and snoring so loudly she is is surprised that the walls aren't shaking with the force of the sound. She is tempted to tiptoe in there and roll the other woman over, to make the noise stop, but she wants Olivia to rest, knows how exhausted she is from everything Amanda has been putting her through, and doesn't want to risk waking her up, doesn't want to see the disappointment, when the older woman realizes what she is about to do.

She very quietly sheds the T-shirt and yoga pants she had gone to bed in, and pulls on some fresh clothes, grabbing her purse from the top of the dresser and making sure there is enough money in her wallet to get through what needs to be done. She pauses again to stare at Olivia while she sleeps, the older woman quiet now, the snoring ceasing to soft, slow breaths, and the older woman has curled up onto her side, arm swiping the empty spot next to her while she sleeps, a frown gracing her features briefly, as if she is looking for Amanda and is wondering why she is no longer tucked up into her embrace.

Amanda tenses for a moment, expecting Olivia to suddenly wake up, to realize that she is no longer in the bed, to sit up and fix her with an accusing stare, to demand to know where she is going, why she is sneaking around in the night like some kind of criminal. For a split second, Amanda actually wants her to awaken, to stop her from what she is about to do, to halt that slide into the black hole that she just keeps slipping further into, to once again come to her rescue, to save her from her demons, from the dark parts of her life that she just can't seem to control.

But Olivia stops moving in the bed, settling down again into the covers, breathing deep and even and peaceful, and Amanda sighs softly, not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. She slings her purse over her shoulder, can feel the money in her wallet practically burning a hole through the material, that intense need to put it to good use, to do the thing she sometimes feels as if she was born to do, the one thing she just can't stop.

She pauses again in the doorway to her bedroom, fixing Olivia with one last look, her chest aching at what she is about to do, and slips away, out into the night.


	8. Chapter 8

Amanda's heart is pounding frantically as she hovers in the doorway of her building, peering out into the night, scanning the sidewalks for anyone who appears suspicious. She knows that she should just turn around and go back inside, take the elevator back up to her floor, and climb back under the warm covers with Olivia, but no matter how much she tries to talk herself out of what she is about to do, she can't seem to stop herself from taking that first step out onto the sidewalk. She glances around cautiously, wrapping her arms around herself protectively, and then begins to walk, the night air cool and refreshing against her suddenly flushed cheeks, the light breeze ruffling her long hair.

She knows where each and every gambling establishment in the area is, the casinos, the underground clubs, the regular stores with the tiny, cramped back rooms where money is won and lost on a regular basis. She walks with purpose to her favorite one, more on her guard than she has ever been before, alert for any sign of danger, any indication that she is not safe, but nothing seems out of the ordinary as she strides toward her destination. She can feel her usual anxiety taking up residence in her brain and body again, and she tries as hard as she can to push it down, not at all eager to have a full blown panic attack out in public with people all around her to witness the likely explosive meltdown, and Olivia back at the apartment, unable to assist her, and she is able to push it down just enough so that it simmers just at the surface, a constant, low buzz that she is acutely aware of, but that is not hampering her ability to keep walking, to once again put an end to the sobriety that she has only managed to maintain for a couple of weeks this time.

She is careful to skirt around everyone she passes on the sidewalk, head lowered just enough not to draw attention to herself, but her eyes constantly scanning the area, making sure no one is going to take her by surprise, and she deliberately veers away anytime she come close to an alleyway. By the time she reaches the building that is her final destination, a place she has frequented many times in the past, her entire body is shaking with anticipation, filled with both elation and dread, and she stands there just outside the door, trembling hands clenched into fists, heart racing out of control, and there is sweat beaded on her upper lip, despite the chilly temperature of the night.

Amanda takes a deep breath and raises her hand to push the door open, before stopping suddenly and lowering her arm, rooted to her spot on the sidewalk, body rigid, unsure of what to do. Her cell phone is in her coat pocket, and she reaches in to run her fingers along the hard rectangle, seriously considering texting or calling Olivia, but ultimately deciding that she has to stop asking her boss to come running to her rescue all the time, has to somehow find that independent, capable woman that she used to be, instead of this weak, insecure mess that she has become. If she wants to be rescued from this situation, then she is going to have to do it herself, but she just doesn't see that happening.

She once again raises her hand, intent on going inside this time, can hear the loud, mingling voices of the many others who have come to do the same thing she has, when the door suddenly bursts open, a group of young men spilling onto the sidewalk, laughing and shoving each other, and they jostle past her, their bodies pushing against hers, one of their arms brushing lightly against her breast. She presses a hand over her mouth to stifle a sudden gag, her heart in her throat, her body buzzing more insistently with anxiety at this intimate but accidental encounter, and she steps aside to let them pass, swaying slightly on her feet and steadying herself against the cold bricks of the building, her hand pressed flat, fingernails digging in until she feels pain, trying to center herself, trying to find some calm.

She drags the tips of her fingers back and forth across the bricks until she is pretty sure she has drawn little pinpricks of blood, but doesn't stop, needs to keep herself grounded and tethered here, so she doesn't fly off the handle and have a breakdown in front of all of the people coming and going. She is having second thoughts about going inside now, can see through the small window by the door just how many people are packed into that tight little space, and she is not sure if she can do this, if she can be so close to all of the men in there. She is completely torn, her hand sliding into her purse, to clutch tightly onto her wallet that is stuffed full of cash, waiting to be used, hoping to add to the pile, but she just stands there on the sidewalk, uncertain and dizzy, the panic pulling tighter, and she knows she needs to make this stop before it she looses it entirely and starts screaming and panting on the street, and begging for Olivia, who is not there.

Amanda looks frantically from side to side, not sure what to do or where to go, and the streetlights look like they are blurring together, the people and the voices combining to create a cacophony of noise that she can't handle, and when she suddenly spots a bar on the other side of the street, she practically sprints over to it, desperate to get inside, even though she knows full well that it is going to be the same type of scene, packed and loud, and full of men who might accidentally or purposely brush up against her. She stands there again for a moment, staring up at the sign above the door, hands clenched into fists once more, and her teeth are worrying her bottom lip again. When she tastes blood on her tongue, she draws in a deep breath and pushes open the door, needing a drink, needing this all to stop.

She keeps her gaze fixed firmly on the bar in front of her, trying desperately to ignore the people pressing in on her from all sides, and everything in her peripheral vision is swimming now, the colours swirling together, and she knows this needs to stop right this instant, and she can't think of anything else to do. She has no choice but to shove her way through the thick crowd, pushing her way to the front of the bar, fingernails digging into her palms as she sees the looks on some of the men's faces, can tell they want to talk to her, to make a pass at her, and she resolutely ignores them, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the only person she wants to speak with; the bartender.

She raises her voice to be heard over the din of the crowd and when the bartender's gaze swings her way, she fixes him with her best smile, the one she knows lights up her entire face, her blue eyes large and sparkling, fluttering her dark lashes slightly, and flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder, and she can only hope she looks as pretty as she wishes she looks, and doesn't look a ghastly sight with blood running down her chin from the wound on her lip that she can't stop reopening. She must not look too bad, though, because the bartender flashes her a grin and asks her what she wants, completely ignoring the large group of people who are already waiting to give their drink orders, and she feels several glares being thrown her way, but she doesn't care, she just needs a damn drink.

When the alcohol is burning a path down her throat, she starts to feel herself relax minutely, the anxiety loosening its hold the tiniest bit, but she knows it's going to take a lot more than just one, and she is prepared to do whatever it takes to make herself stay away from the establishment across the street, to keep from relapsing yet again, and from having a complete meltdown in front of this very large group of total strangers. The bartender comes over to flirt with her more than once as the night grows later, and she forces herself to keep smiling and flirting back, because the more she flirts, the less time she has to wait between drinks. She finds that the more she drinks, the easier is becomes to flirt, and after awhile, they are chatting and laughing in between him serving the other customers, and it is such an odd sensation, to be talking to man like it is the most normal thing in the world, not at all worried that he is going to do something horrible and degrading and painful to her without her consent, and she is wistful for the ways things used to be, before the gambling relapse, before the assault.

xxx

Amanda stays until the bar closes, and by the time she stumbles outside, she is well and truly drunk, any urge to gamble completely obliterated, all traces of anxiety gone from her system. She is beyond tipsy and quite disoriented, but not in a bad way, as she shuffles along the sidewalk, unsure of where she is going and honestly not that concerned about it. Her mood feels pretty light and it is a nice change of pace from the darkness of the past several weeks. Finally she just takes a seat on a curb, as she has been unable to locate a bench, and she pulls a pack of cigarettes out her purse and lights one up, blowing the smoke lazily into the air and giggling to herself, although she is not sure why or what about.

She becomes aware of a man bending down next to her, far too close for comfort, and she shrinks away from him with a frown. "What do you want?" she slurs, flapping a hand at him to try to make him leave her alone.

"Lady, are you alright?" he asks, sounding concerned, not backing off, and in fact, moving closer to her.

"I'm fine," she mutters, shifting away down the curb. "Just leave me the hell alone."

"Well, you don't look fine," he insists. "You're about to fall into the street, and that cigarette is burned down all the way to end. You need to be careful out here, lady. You can't be all drunk like this; someone is going to take advantage of you."

She can't help the harsh laugh that falls from between her lips as she stubs out her cigarette under her shoe. "You're preaching to the choir there, man," she chuckles. "Been there, done that, got the T-shirt." She finds herself hysterically funny and can't seem to stop laughing.

"Jesus, lady, you need help," he says, shaking his head at her and reaching his arm out. "You are drunk off your ass."

"Hey, don't touch me!" Amanda snarls, when she sees his hand hovering close to her. "I mean it, get the fuck away from me!"

He stands there with his hands raised in the air, looking unsure, and then glancing around as if he is afraid to cause a scene. "Look, lady, I'm just trying to help-"

"I don't need your damn help," she sneers, and reaches into the inside of her jacket, fumbling around for her gun, which she doesn't have. He doesn't know that, though, so she decides to make a show of it, to pretend that it is actually there. "I have a weapon!" she threatens, making a move to take her hand out of her coat, and he finally backs off, hands still raised in the air, a look of fear crossing his face now.

"Yeah, there you go," she yells, hand still tucked inside her coat. "You just keep moving, buddy."

"Crazy bitch," she hears him mutter as he turns away and takes off. "Jesus, I was just trying to help you!"

"I don't need any help," she murmurs, watching in satisfaction as he disappears into the crowd, a few people giving her funny looks as they walk by. She rolls her eyes, just wanting to be left alone, determined to get her good mood back, so she just ignores everyone and sits there on the curb, staring up at the sky and smoking cigarette after cigarette, the cloud of smoke growing so thick around her head that she starts coughing and has to take a break.

Her phone suddenly rings and she finds herself overcome with an immense amount of joy when she sees her boss' name flash across the screen, realizing that she has actually missed the older woman during their brief time apart, and reaffirming her intense need for Olivia to stay with her.

"Hi, Liv!" she answers cheerfully, after it has taken her a few tries to put the phone against her ear, the device almost slipping from her trembling hand and falling to the ground.

There is a moment of confused silence before Olivia speaks. "Amanda...what the hell is going on? Where are you? It's the middle of the night! I woke up and couldn't find you anywhere in the apartment."

"That's because I'm not in the apartment, Liv," Amanda replies seriously.

"Thank you for clarifying that," Olivia says dryly, the sigh that is emitting through the phone screen sounded both concerned and exasperated. "Where are you?" she repeats, more firmly this time.

"Sitting on the sidewalk," Amanda answers.

"What? What are you talking about? What sidewalk?" Olivia sounds slightly more frantic now, and Amanda can hear shuffling sounds in the background, like her boss is moving around quickly.

"The sidewalk outside," she says, rolling her eyes, like this is the most obvious answer in the world, surprised that her smart, capable boss is so slow to catch on to things sometimes.

"Amanda, are you drunk?" Olivia asks sharply, and she winces at the harsh tone in the older woman's voice, sensing that she has disappointed her but is not sure why, since she has done such a good job of avoiding the casinos, has not even set a foot in the door of any of the establishments she has passed in her travels.

"Well, yeah, I'm a little drunk," she admits cautiously. "But it's okay, Liv. I'm drunk for a good reason."

"And what reason would that be?" Olivia's voice is still stern, lacking the usual compassion that Amanda has gotten used to hearing over the past while, and her shoulders slump briefly in defeat before remembering what she needs to tell the other woman, and is suddenly eager again, her spine straightening as she speaks.

"Because it kept me from gambling!" she replies enthusiastically. "I wanted to gamble so badly tonight but I've just been drinking and smoking instead, so it's all good." She neglects to mention that the drinking was also a way to keep the anxiety at bay, not needing Olivia to know how close she had been to yet another breakdown.

She hears a rough sigh from the other end of the line and frowns in consternation, still not understanding why her boss seems to be so upset with her.

"Liv, what's wrong? I thought you would be proud of me!"

"Proud of you?" Olivia's voice has an incredulous tinge to it now. "I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer."

"But I think you just did," Amanda replies helpfully, and then puts a hand to her head as the world seems to tilt for a moment.

"I just did what?"

"You dignified me with an answer," she confirms, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at how dense her boss is currently being. There is silence on the other end of the line again, and Amanda frowns in confusion. "Well, you answered me, didn't you?"

"Okay, Amanda, enough. I'm done talking in circles. Tell me where you are right now, and I'm going to come and get you." Olivia's voice is firm, a hint of anger laced through her tone now, a clear warning not to argue with her.

"But Liv, I really thought you would be proud of me for not gambling," she says, feeling shame creep through her now, like she has done something wrong and is being punished for it by her boss, when all she had wanted to do was impress her with the amount of self control she had been displaying that night; when she had been doing everything possible not to slide back into that perilous pit of addiction.

"Why on earth would I be proud of you for sneaking out of the apartment in the middle of the night to get drunk, and not even have the decency to tell me where you're going? I was worried sick when I couldn't find you, Amanda! I thought something had happened to you!" Olivia sounds upset now, and the blatant worry is obvious in her tone.

She is momentarily chastened that she has caused her boss so much stress but then feels a tendril of hostility curl through her at the other woman's condescending tone. "You know, Liv, I'm an adult and I can leave my own apartment whenever I want, to _do_ whatever I want" she huffs. "I don't need your damn permission. I'm not some stupid little teenager, and you're not my mother."

"Well, you're certainly acting like some stupid little teenager," Olivia snaps. "And right now I feel like I'm your mother!"

Amanda bows her head, her shoulders hunched up to her ears, and she feels a sharp stab of pain at the harsh anger she hears coming through the phone. "Stop trying to pick a fight with me, Liv," she whines. "I don't like it when you're mad at me."

There is another sigh and when the older woman speaks again, her voice is softer this time. "I'm not mad at you, Amanda. And I'm not trying to pick a fight, okay? I'm just worried about you. You should be safe and sound in bed right now, not wandering the streets drunk all by yourself, after what you've been through, after what just happened before we went to bed. Please just tell me where you are so I can come get you and bring you home."

"Liv, I've missed you while I've been gone," Amanda says with feeling, her lower lip trembling slightly. "And I want to come home. But not if you're going to be mad at me."

"Honey, I just told you that I'm not mad at you," Olivia replies gently. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, okay? It just scared me when I woke up and you were gone. And I want to bring you home, so please tell me where you are."

Amanda looks up at the building she is sitting in front of, her head spinning slightly, squinting to see properly through her blurry vision, and then rattles off the address.

"Okay, that's not too far," Olivia replies, and she can hear the older woman's sigh of relief. "Just stay where you are, okay? I'm leaving the apartment right now, and I want you to stay on the phone with me so I know you're safe."

"Liv, I'm not a baby," Amanda says, rolling her eyes. "I've gotten drunk a million times before, you know."

"Please just stay on the phone with me," the older woman answers, sounding tired and resigned.

They don't say much while Olivia walks to Amanda's current location, for the most part just listening to each other breathe. It is oddly comforting to Amanda, knowing the older woman is on the other end of the line, despite the lack of conversation, and that she will be here soon to take her home, to get her off the cold, dark streets and back up into her warm bed, where she won't have to be alone with her nightmares and her panic and her addiction, where she will have someone to hold and comfort her when she needs it, and she finds herself wishing she had never left in the first place.

She pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around her shins while she waits for her boss, curling into herself for warmth, and smiles when she sees Olivia striding quickly toward her out of the darkness, the phone still held up to her ear. The older woman sits right down beside her on the curb, and Amanda is surprised when she is immediately pulled into Olivia's arms for a tight hug. She wraps her own arms around the other woman, hugging her back eagerly and pressing her face into her shoulder, feeling that sense of safety and security, even though they are sitting on the edge of a dingy New York street in the middle of the night, the sidewalk strewn with garbage, and people bustling past them, the city still very much alive with noise and action in the wee hours of the morning.

She is aware of the fact that she smells very strongly of alcohol and cigarettes, but if Olivia notices or cares, she doesn't give any indication of it, and continues to hold Amanda against her chest, stroking a hand through her windblown hair, the other hand rubbing up and down her back, like she is trying to infuse her with some warmth.

"Amanda, I know you're an adult and I don't want to treat you like a child, but please don't do this again," Olivia say softly into her ear. "You can't just leave like this without telling me. Not after what's been going on since I got to your place. You scared the hell out of me."

"Okay," she murmurs, feeling very contrite now, especially when she feels the older woman's arms tighten around her, pulling her impossibly closer. "Sorry, Liv."

"It's okay," Olivia whispers. "Come on, let's go home. You must be exhausted." She feels the older woman trying to hoist her to her feet, and she stumbles on the curb as they stand up, her legs tangling around one another, clutching onto her boss' arms for support so she doesn't slip to the ground.

Olivia wraps a firm arm around her waist and begins guiding her down the sidewalk in the direction of her apartment, expertly weaving them in and out of the throngs of boisterous partiers that they continually pass on their journey home, people spilling in and out of the bars and clubs, music blasting from random doorways. Amanda leans into her boss as they walk, one hand clutching onto the back of Olivia's jacket and the other gripping the front of the sweatshirt the older woman is wearing once again, the one she had borrowed from her, the shirt hugging Olivia's curves a little more snugly than it does hers, especially since most of Amanda's clothes seem to hang off of her now, her weight loss becoming more rapid as the weeks go on.

They make it to her building and into the elevator, and Amanda is glad that no one else is in there with them, as she has the sudden need to sprawl across the floor, her legs feeling heavy and shaky and unable to support her, the copious amount of alcohol swirling through her system, not to mention that ever-present feeling of exhaustion, making it hard to stay on her feet. She starts to slip out of Olivia's grasp and kneel down onto the filthy tiles, when she feels the other woman's arms tighten around her waist, urging her to stand up properly.

"Honey, don't do that," her boss chastises gently. "You can lay down when we get back up to your unit. Try to stay on your feet; I'm not carrying you again."

"But I want you to carry me," Amanda murmurs drunkenly, burrowing into the older woman's embrace, her arms sliding underneath her jacket to wrap around her ribs, her face pressing into her shoulder. "My legs won't work properly."

"Weren't you just asking me not to treat you like a child?" Olivia reminds her softly, stroking a hand through her disheveled blonde locks, and Amanda leans more heavily against her, feeling her knees buckle slightly.

"Whoa, there," Olivia gasps, as Amanda starts sliding to the floor again, and her boss tries to hoist her back to her feet, Amanda clinging tightly to her body to keep herself from falling. "Sweetheart, come on, we're almost home. You can do this."

"Liv, I love you," Amanda spontaneously blurts out as the elevator doors open and she hangs from Olivia, her boss dragging her into the hallway, shuffling unsteadily on her feet as she again has to keep from tumbling to the ground. "You're the best friend I've ever had."

There is silence as they make their way slowly down the hallway, and Amanda frowns when Olivia doesn't speak, when she doesn't even spare her a glance. "You know, usually when someone says they love you, it's polite to say it back, Liv."

When she is only greeted with more silence, Amanda rolls her eyes. "Geez, would it kill you to express an emotion once in awhile? Always so serious, Livvy." She chuckles, finding her boss to be cute and endearing when she is in such a solemn, somber mood, and she is highly amused, even though she doesn't think Olivia is sharing in the hilarity.

Her suspicions are confirmed when the other woman turns to look at her, one eyebrow arched, her lips pressed together in a thin line. "'Express an emotion', Amanda?" Olivia grits out through clenched teeth. "I think that's all I've been doing since you told me what happened to you. I don't think I've ever cried for someone so much in my life. I am devastated for you, for what you're going through. Do you have any idea how hard it is to watch you go through this?"

Amanda stares at her for a moment, completely taken aback, and they are paused in the hallway now, still clutching onto each other, regarding one another intently. "Oh," she whispers.

"Yeah, 'oh'"," Olivia mutters. "Next time think before you speak, Amanda. Or maybe you could think better if your brain wasn't so full of alcohol."

"See, this is why you're my best friend and I love you," Amanda continues, trying to keep from slurring her words, as they very carefully begin walking again, stopping when they reach the door, Olivia catching Amanda as she sways unsteadily on her feet. "No one else cares about me."

"You know that's not true. A lot of people care about you, Amanda," Olivia replies firmly, seemingly having a very hard time getting the door open while trying to keep Amanda from falling to the floor, and safely maneurvering them inside. "Fin and Carisi ask about you constantly. Everyone is concerned about you." There is a slight pause. "Especially me."

Amanda feels her heart melt at the words, as they collapse together on the couch, her bed suddenly appearing to be a much further distance than she remembers it being, and she feels the need to reassure Olivia, not wanting to cause her anymore stress than she already has that night and for the past few weeks. "Liv, it's okay," she slurs, reaching out to pat the older woman on the cheek with a clumsy hand. "I'm fine; you guys don't need to worry about me."

"You are not fine, Amanda," Olivia snaps, pulling away from her touch, and Amanda feels a sharp stab of hurt, fixing her boss with a frown. "You left the apartment in the middle of the night with the intention of gambling; you're so completely wasted, I practically had to carry you in here and you are barely capable of having a coherent conversation." The older woman is staring at her now, her intense frown mirroring Amanda's. "Were you not having a bad enough day to begin with?" she continues, her tone quieter now. "The nightmares and the flashbacks and the panic attacks weren't quite enough to deal with, so you had to go and make things just that much worse?"

Amanda looks away in shame, bowing her head and letting her long hair obscure her expression so the older woman doesn't see the tears welling in her eyes. "I thought you said you weren't mad at me," she whispers, twisting her hands together on her lap, shoulders hunching up to her ears. She is too drunk and tired to fight back, to argue her position, to make the other woman understand that this was the only thing she could do to control the demons that haunt her. She knows Olivia thinks she is nothing more than a worthless addict, incapable of an ounce of self control, one bad habit just taking the place of the next, and that realization hurts more than anything she's ever felt before.

"I'm not mad, Amanda," Olivia sighs, and she flinches sharply when she feels the older woman gently pushing her hair back from her face so she can get a look at her, sliding further away on the couch, no longer welcoming her boss' touch, the shame and the guilt too much to bear now. Her good mood has disappeared as rapidly as it had appeared, and she can see herself from Olivia's point of view now, pathetic and drunk and childish, a burden that is too heavy to handle. "I'm just exhausted and frustrated, honey," the other woman continues in a soft voice. "I'm so worried about you."

"Well, don't be," Amanda replies, her tone flat, feeling the anxiety building in her once again, but this time it has nothing to do with the faceless, nameless man from the alley, and everything to do with the fact that she can't seem to stop alienating the one person who has shown her more friendship and support and compassion that anyone else since this whole ordeal has begun; the person who has stressed over her and worried about her for the past several weeks, as she had seen Amanda begin to slip further and further into a dark hole but hadn't known why, who had gently pushed her to talk, to confide in her about the gambling relapse and assault, who had held her and listened to all of the horrific details, who had let her stay at her apartment for the entire weekend previous, and is now staying at hers for a possibly indefinite amount of time.

She can feel the anxiety pushing its way through the alcohol induced haze in her brain, and works very hard to control it, not wanting to slide into yet another intense panic attack, especially with everything else that is going on right now, and needing to be able to control at least this small aspect of her seemingly endless array of problems. She feels the familiar shuddering of her limbs begin and that tightening of her throat, the shortness of breath, and she turns fully away from Olivia now, curling into the pillow at the end of the couch, needing to maintain control. The anxiety coupled with the alcohol is doing an impressive job of making her head spin, and she has to close her eyes to making the room stop turning, the walls rippling unpleasantly like waves in the ocean, and she swallows down a wave of nausea.

"Are you going to leave now?" she whispers brokenly, fearing that she has ruined everything, this newfound closeness between them, this friendship that means everything to her.

"Hey, are you having a panic attack?" Olivia asks suddenly, not answering her question, the older woman's voice raising in concern, and Amanda feels a soft touch against her back.

"No," she answers stubbornly, still not turning to face the other woman but not pulling away from her touch this time, resolute in settling this anxiety down on her own and not making this situation worse than it already is. Even with her eyes closed, the room is still somehow spinning, and she curses herself for drinking so much, wondering how she possibly could have thought that it would help anything.

"No, I'm not going to leave just because you screwed up," Olivia replies tiredly, her hand still resting against Amanda's shaking back. "But I wish you had talked to me instead of leaving. You should have woken me up if you were having these addictive urges again, if they were bad enough to actually go out in the middle of the night, to get completely wasted, so you could make them stop."

"But I didn't gamble, Liv," Amanda murmurs, still not turning around to face her, and feeling a tendril of hope that her anxiety does not seem to be worsening and it is just that constant low hum again, sitting there on the surface but not rising up into the usual beast that it becomes. "Doesn't that at least count for something?"

"It does," Olivia sighs. "It counts, and I'm glad you didn't gamble, Amanda, but can't you see that you are just substituting one vice for another?"

"I can see that now," Amanda mutters.

"Well, good," Olivia replies seriously. "I'm glad, because right now you're just burying everything under a haze of alcohol. The gambling, the assault, the panic. It needs to be dealt with, not buried."

"A man touched me and I thought I was going to pass out," Amanda suddenly blurts out, shifting around on the couch so she is facing Olivia again, clutching the pillow tightly on her lap.

"What?" Olivia says sharply, staring hard at her, a frown fixed on her face again. "Who touched you, Amanda? Where did this happen?"

"It was just an accident," she whispers. "It was outside this place I used to go to...to gamble. I was there tonight, trying to decide whether or not to go in, and he accidentally brushed up against my breast. I could feel myself starting to flip out, so I had to make the anxiety stop. I had to make the gambling urges stop." She hiccups loudly and presses a hand to her mouth. "This was the only way, Liv."

"Oh, honey," Olivia murmurs, reaching out to stoke a gentle hand over her cheek. "I'm sorry this is happening."

Amanda buries her face in the pillow as another wave of dizziness overtakes her. "I can't be normal, Liv. I don't know how to be normal anymore." She looks at the other woman, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I lost myself somewhere. I don't know where I went. And I don't think I'm ever coming back."


	9. Chapter 9

Amanda's eyes are gritty with sleep when she cracks them open, staring up in the ceiling in confusion, not understanding why she seems to be sprawled across the couch in the living room instead of tucked into her own bed, and why she is just waking up now when the clock on the TV is indicating that it is so late on Sunday afternoon, it is nearing the dinner hour. She sits up suddenly, memories from the previous night flooding back to her, and grabs her head in agony, the sharp claws of pain digging deep into her brain, the roiling of her stomach telling her that she will likely be emptying it soon. She swings her legs over the side of the couch and sits there for a moment with her head in her hands, groaning quietly, the room spinning around her, and she is not quite sure if she is still drunk or just hungover, or if it is a mixture of the two. She can smell herself, the alcohol and cigarette smoke clinging to her hair and skin, feeling sweaty and unkempt, and it makes her gag and rush for the bathroom to slouch in front of the toilet, throwing up until there is nothing left in her stomach, until she is a puddle of quivering limbs, gasping and shaking on the floor.

She peers cautiously around the door frame, noticing the silence of the apartment, and again feeling that spike of fear that Olivia has left, as more shameful memories from the night before continue to wash over her, but she sighs in relief when she sees that her bedroom door is shut, and hopes her boss is in there, getting some rest. She very quietly closes the bathroom door and peels the clothes from her sticky skin, her hair standing on end, before reaching in to turn on the shower, making sure the water is as hot as she can stand it, and climbs gingerly into the tub, careful not slip on the wet surface.

She stands there beneath the spray with her eyes squeezed shut, letting the water wash away all of the grime from the previous night, and wishing it would wash away her emotions and memories as well. She is overcome with a deep sense of shame and remorse as she remembers leaving the apartment in the middle of the night, seeking out a place to fulfill her intense desire to gamble, desperately needing to drink away her anxiety, and then Olivia walking out of the darkness to pick her up off of the curb she had been slumped onto, dragging her like a toddler back to her home while acting like a complete idiot, and then passing out on the couch, right in the middle of a conversation with the other woman.

Amanda sighs wearily, pressing her face against the smooth tiles, standing there for a moment with her eyes still shut, before they suddenly fly open and she whirls around abruptly, feet almost skidding out from under her, as she remembers what had happened the last time she had been in here, the last time she had pressed herself up against the wall like this and not been vigilant of her surroundings. Right on the heels of that memory comes the realization that it had just been a dream, that Olivia had had to come in here and rescue her from the imaginary man assaulting her in the bathtub, but she continues to stand there anyway, eyes fixed on the shower curtain, waiting for it to move, waiting to hear the door open, but nothing happens, and she shakes her head in disbelief, disgusted with herself once again.

She remains in the shower for quite some time, needing to sober up completely, to be clean and feel human once more, and a small part of her admits to wanting to avoid Olivia, just in case the other woman comes out of the bedroom. She wants her here, still wants her to stay, but just doesn't want to have a conversation, doesn't want to have to make eye contact. When she is finally done, she dries off and then throws on the robe that is hanging from a hook on the back of the door, rubbing a towel briskly through her long hair and brushing it out so it lays in a wet curtain over her shoulders. She creeps out into the hallway, taking note that her bedroom door is still closed tightly, and she glances in wonder around the apartment, noticing that it is spic and span, washed dishes drying in the sink, clutter picked up and put away, chicken defrosting on the counter, likely for dinner that evening. The smell of coffee and cooking are lingering in the air and the tub had still been damp before she had turned on the shower, so it is obvious that Olivia had been up and about for awhile before returning to bed, but Amanda hadn't heard a thing, had been dead to the world during all the activity.

Amanda looks around for something that she can do for Olivia, something to try to convey how sorry she is for everything she has been putting her through, for her ridiculous behaviour the night before, but everything is done, and there is nothing she can do but slump back onto the couch and stew in silence. Part of her is angry for wasting so much of the day in a drunken snooze, especially when Olivia is returning to work in the morning, realizing that they could have had a nice day together, meals and movies or maybe a walk in the park, but instead they have spent the day separated due to Amanda's lack of control and the ensuing chaos, and she is terrified of the older woman's reaction to her, when she finally comes out of the bedroom, but is also puzzled as to why she is still here, after everything Amanda has done. Her boss' loyalty stuns her, a warm feeling wrapping around the regret and the guilt, creating a confusing mix of emotions. She is truly unable to understand why Olivia is still here, why she hasn't abandoned her, after seeing Amanda at her worst, the most terrible version of herself; drunk, childish, panic-stricken, pathetic.

Amanda sighs, her head dropping into her hands once again, and she finds herself actually looking forward to the morning, to her appointment with Dr. Lindstrom, because right now she feels like that is the only way that she can properly repay Olivia, that she can do something for her in return, to prove that she can keep her word about going to therapy, to try her best to get some help for herself so she can stop this awful, destructive behaviour, so she can stop clinging to her boss like she is her lifeline, so Olivia can have her own life back again. She is desperate for some relief from this new, appalling way of living, and she hopes Dr. Lindstrom can provide that for her, that she will have someone else to lean on so she is no longer such a burden to Olivia.

She glances over at the end table where her phone is sitting and swipes it into her hand, noticing she has a few missed text messages. There are two from Fin and one from Carisi, asking how her weekend is going and telling her how much they miss her at the precinct. There is also a message from Olivia, one that she had received in the middle of the night, shortly after her return home, and she frowns, clicking on it curiously, her eyes skimming across the words on the screen.

 _"I'm sorry you're having a bad night, Amanda. You fell asleep while we were talking, so I'm going to go to bed, but if you wake up and are scared or if you need me for anything, please don't hesitate to come get me this time. I'm here for you."_

She shakes her head as she reads the message over and over, the words blurring together as her eyes fill with tears, and once again she is at a complete loss as to why Olivia is still here, why she is so caring and understanding, why she won't give up on her, when she should have just left her there in a drunken heap on the couch and returned to her own apartment. She is so undeserving of the older woman's apparently unwavering loyalty, and is filled with gratitude and confusion and embarrassment, and something else, that other feeling that she hasn't quite been able to put her finger on. Her thumbs hover over the screen, wanting to respond, thinking back to when they had been texting each other in Fin's car at the drive-in movies, and again at Olivia's apartment later that same night. She wants to send her a message, is ready to communicate now, but is not sure what she can possibly say to make things better, and doesn't want to risk waking her up if the older woman is finally getting some much-needed sleep.

Amanda cannot seem to sit still now, suddenly desperate to see Olivia, to apologize for everything, and she gets to her feet to pace restlessly around the room, a habit that is becoming familiar to her now. She creeps to her closed bedroom door and presses her ear against it, not hearing a sound, and she feels a tendril of guilt as she very quietly pushes open the door and steps inside. The day is overcast and gloomy, looking like it is about to start raining, perfectly matching Amanda's mood, so the room is quite dim and shadowy when she tiptoes inside.

She squints into the gloom, spotting Olivia curled up under the covers at the edge of the bed, facing away from the door. Her back is rising and falling rhythmically, breathing deep and even, and Amanda's guilt ratchets up another notch as she shuffles further into the room, standing there for a moment, shifting from foot to foot, unsure of what to do. She wants to be close to the other woman but doesn't want to wake her up, so she decides not to get in on the other side of the bed, instead sliding down onto the floor to lean against the mattress on the side that Olivia is sleeping on. The older woman's arm is hanging over the edge of the bed, and Amanda very gently tucks it back underneath the covers for her, before stroking a hand through Olivia's dark hair a few times, biting her lip when she sees how tired her boss looks, even while sound asleep.

Olivia murmurs something under her breath, shifting slightly beneath the covers, and reaches up to lay her hand over Amanda's, tangling their fingers together, and then bringing them down against the pillow, to rest her cheek against their joined hands. Amanda looks at her for a moment, wondering if she is awake, but Olivia lets out a soft snore, so she settles back down onto the floor, resting her head against the side of the mattress, her arm bent at an awkward angle while the older woman continues to hold her hand, but she has no desire to move, to pull her hand away, so just closes her eyes, curling her legs up into her chest.

xxx

When she opens her eyes again, it is even darker in the room now, and there is a hand stroking through her own hair this time. Her head is bent, gaze fixed on the floor, and she doesn't move for a moment, doesn't let Olivia know that she is awake, and just remains in this position, concentrating on the older woman's fingers threading through her long hair, still slightly damp from her earlier shower. Her head still aches and her stomach is still upset, the hangover having firmly taken hold now, and the soothing, repetitive motion of Olivia's palm is making her feel somewhat better, is working to ease the tension in her body from the physical discomfort that she is in, and the emotional distress as well.

"I know you're awake," Olivia finally whispers, and Amanda feels her boss' fingernails gently scratching against her scalp.

She keeps her head lowered for a moment before raising her eyes to fix her gaze on Olivia, glad for the darkness in the room, so the other woman can't see the blush of shame spreading across her cheeks.

"How're you doing, honey?" her boss asks softly, hand still resting atop her head, and Amanda cannot maintain eye contact now, glancing away at the patient tone of the older woman's voice, knowing she doesn't deserve her kindness.

"Amanda, look at me," Olivia says, and she meets her boss' eyes again, with extreme reluctance. "How are you doing?" Olivia repeats, more firmly this time.

"I'm fine," she murmurs, knowing her expression likely looks as unconvincing as her voice sounds, but not wanting to burden the older woman any further with her issues.

"No, you're not," Olivia states quietly. "Come up here." She shifts farther away on the mattress, holding up the covers so Amanda can get unsteadily to her feet and slide underneath.

They are laying face to face on the bed now, one of Olivia's hands tucked up beneath her chin, their gazes locked on one another, and Amanda watches as the other woman reaches an arm toward her, gently brushing her fingertips against her cheek in a silent reminder, and she realizes that she is biting down hard on her lower lip yet again, another habit she is seemingly unable to break. She licks a drop of blood off her lip with her tongue and stares at her boss for another moment before she speaks.

"Olivia, I need you to know how sorry I am for last night," she says softly. "There aren't words to express how very sorry I am. Not just for last night, but for everything."

She watches Olivia nod slowly, her expression sympathetic and kind, and Amanda's brow is furrowed, because there is a small part of her that wishes the other woman would just scream at her, would punish her in some way, as it is no less than what she deserves. But if the punishment involves Olivia vacating her apartment to return to her own home, she doesn't think she will be able to handle it.

"I know you're sorry, Amanda," she replies gently, reaching out to tuck an errant stand of her blonde hair back behind her ear.

"I acted like an ass," Amanda whispers.

"Yup, you did," Olivia confirms quietly.

"So I don't understand..." Amanda trails off, the frown still fixed on her face.

"Understand what?"

"Why you're still here, Liv. You should have just left me on the couch last night and gone back to your own place. I would have deserved it."

Now Olivia is the one frowning at her, and she reaches out to stroke Amanda's cheek again. "I wasn't just going to leave you here, drunk out of your mind, having a panic attack, traumatized. What kind of a person would I be if I had done that?"

"A sane person?" Amanda questions, eyebrows raised now, earning a small smirk from Olivia.

"I should rephrase that," Olivia corrects herself. "What kind of a best friend would I be?"

Amanda groans softly, squeezing her eyes shut. "Oh yeah, I seem to recall telling you a couple of different times that you were my best friend..."

"And telling me you loved me," Olivia finishes for her, and Amanda can hear the smile in her voice.

She cracks an eye open, the corner of her lip lifting slightly, feeling both embarrassed and amused. "Yeah, that too," she chuckles softly.

Olivia stops smiling now and looks her right in the eye. "So, I'll ask you again, Amanda, what kind of a best friend would I be if I had just left you here in the condition you were in?"

"Liv, you don't have to do that, you don't have to pretend-" Amanda mutters, rolling away from her, before Olivia grasps her firmly around the shoulder, turning her back around to face her.

"What kind of a best friend would I be?" she repeats, more forcefully now.

Amanda rolls her eyes, unable to contain her embarrassment now, but that warm feeling is creeping through her again, winding its way around the negative emotions, trying to burst through. "Well, not a very good one, I suppose," she finally concedes.

"Exactly," Olivia states, dark gaze still fixed firmly upon her. "What if it had been the other way around? Would you have left me in that condition?"

"No, of course not," Amanda says, appalled to think of the older woman in the state she had been in during the night. "But that would never happen, Liv-"

"Oh, really?" Olivia cuts in, one eyebrow arched now. "You think that's never happened to me before?"

Amanda is gazing at her doubtfully now. "So you snuck out in the middle of the night, determined to gamble away the sobriety you only had for a couple of weeks, had a panic attack in the middle of the street because you were accidentally touched by some random guy, and then got completely wasted and had to have your boss come drag you home like a drunken little teenager?" She squeezes her eyes shut again, overcome with yet another wave of embarrassment. "I also seem to recall begging you to carry me when we were in the elevator."

"Yes, apparently your legs weren't working properly," Olivia murmurs, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips, and Amanda sighs harshly, covering her face with her hands.

She feels Olivia's warm fingers grasping her own, peeling her hands away from her face, and she fixes her boss with a disbelieving look. "So that's happened to you before, huh?"

"Not exactly like that," Olivia admits, with a gentle chuckle. "But yes, that kind of thing has happened to me. More than once."

"What?" Amanda asks in surprise. "Why? When?"

"Remember how I told you I wasn't doing well after what happened with Lewis?" Olivia reminds her quietly, and Amanda nods, eyes fixed on her boss now, watching her with curiosity and sadness. "Well, I had some issues with alcohol, some nights where I couldn't get him out of my head, when I was all alone and just needed something to help me forget. I was tormented by panic attacks too, for a little while. It just got to be too much sometimes, as you know."

Amanda nods again, staring at her with wide eyes, horrified all over again that Olivia had gone through this kind of thing all alone, that she had been suffering so much, and Amanda had been none the wiser, had just been carrying on with her own life. She distinctly remembers her thoughts straying to Olivia from time to time after the ordeals with Lewis, wondering how she was doing, wanting to help, but the older woman had been so closed off, and she hadn't had the courage to approach her, to try to break down those carefully constructed walls, like Olivia had managed to do with her.

She has the sudden urge to reach out and pull the older woman into her arms, wanting to soothe her as she thinks about Lewis and the torment and torture he had put her through, but she refrains, afraid of the possible rejection, of Olivia not accepting the physical comfort. She and her boss are a lot alike in that area, not people who are overly appreciative of physical touch, but that has changed a lot over the past couple of weeks, as they have grown closer. She is still convinced that Olivia is angry about the previous night, though, and doesn't want to push her luck.

"I'm so sorry, Liv," she whispers, her hand smoothing out over the covers between them, hovering close to Olivia but not quite touching. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, and I wasn't there for you, like you've been here for me."

"It's okay, honey," the other woman replies softly, reaching out to meet her hand with her own, their fingertips touching briefly, and Amanda wincing a little at the contact.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Olivia asks, frowning slightly as Amanda's fingers curl into her palm.

She doesn't answer and watches as the older woman slowly reaches out again, pulling her clenched fist into her hand and gently unfurling her fingers. The room is very dim, making it hard to see, so Olivia raises Amanda's splayed fingers to her face, and it is obvious that she spots the scrapes from the night before.

"What happened? Did you hurt yourself?" she questions, concern in her voice now.

Amanda looks away, bringing her knees up to her chest underneath the covers. "Last night," she murmurs. "I was trying to make the panic attack stop. After that guy touched me. I dug my fingers into the bricks of the building I was standing in front of. The pain was kind of grounding me, keeping me from flying off the handle. Well, until I started drinking," she mumbles shamefully. "Then it finally stopped."

Olivia gently laces their fingers together, her thumb stroking back and forth across the back of her hand.

This simple kindness, this undeserved gesture, in Amanda's opinion, makes her heart clench and her face crumple. "I'm really sorry, Liv," she says again, tears welling in her eyes, blinking rapidly to hold them at bay. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to hold myself together. I'm sorry I keep screwing up. I'm such a goddamn fuck up, such a waste of space." She pulls away to cover her eyes with her hands, stifling a sob. "I'm sorry I'm keeping you from your own life. You must have better things to do than babysit your nutcase of a subordinate."

She is curling into herself under the covers, the shame too much to bear, when Olivia sits up beside her and holds out her hand. "Amanda, come here," she says softly, gesturing toward herself.

Amanda shakes her head, knowing Olivia is offering to hold her, to soothe her pain, but she is undeserving of it, cannot seem to forgive herself for what she has been putting her boss through.

"Come here, sweetheart," Olivia whispers, reaching out to lightly stroke a palm over her head.

"I'm a horrible person, Liv," Amanda chokes out, curling tighter into herself, as the older woman continues to stroke her fingers through her hair. "I don't deserve your help, your kindness. I don't understand why you're even still here."

"You're not a horrible person," Olivia answers insistently. "Your actions might not have been so great last night, but that doesn't make you a bad person. We all make mistakes, honey. I just told you that I've done the same thing." She hears the older woman sigh. "Amanda, you asked me why I'm still here. I'm here because you need someone right now and that someone is me. I chose not to reach out to colleagues or friends after what had happened to me; there were times when all I wanted to do was pick up the phone and ask one of you for help, or just for some company, but I didn't and I suffered for it. I had too much pride; I didn't want anyone to see me as less than the best, as someone who was weak." There is a brief pause before Olivia continues. "And believe it or not, I felt the same that you've been feeling lately, that need to be held, for someone to just wrap their arms around me and make me feel safe; when my skin didn't feel like it was crawling, that is. But I never asked anyone, honey. You have more courage than I do, you know that?"

"Olivia, that's ridiculous," Amanda replies, swiping a hand quickly across her eyes. "You have more courage in your baby toe than I have in my entire body."

"You don't give yourself enough credit, Amanda," Olivia says quietly. "I wish you could see yourself the way other people see you, the way I see you."

They are silent for a moment, Olivia's hand still stroking gently through her damp blonde locks as she lays there, curled up on her side, facing the other woman. She is very surprised by her boss' revelation, that she had wanted to be held by someone when she had been going through her own breakdown after Lewis, as she knows how tough and independent Olivia is, not much for physical affection, and how much the two of them had in common before Amanda had turned into this pathetic mess.

"I would have held you," she suddenly whispers, her heart aching for everything that Olivia had gone through alone.

"What's that, honey?" the older woman asks, leaning down closer to her.

"I would have held you," Amanda repeats in a low tone, glancing up at her boss, cheeks turning pink again. "You said you wished you had someone to hold you. Well, I would have, Liv."

She watches a smile stretch across Olivia's face and thinks she sees the hint of tears in her dark eyes. "Thank you, Amanda," the other woman says sincerely, brushing a hand through her hair again. There is a slight pause. "I'm not going to leave, okay? You don't need to worry about that."

"You must be a glutton for punishment, Liv," Amanda mumbles, a tear escaping from one her lashes and rolling down her cheek. "What if I can't stop doing this? What if I keep trying to gamble, what if I drink again? And the panic attacks and nightmares are out of control." She imagines the scratch marks on Olivia's stomach, and the other one on her leg, and she stifles a sob again. "What if I continue to hurt you?"

"I'm still not going to leave," Olivia replies gently. "I see some of myself in you, Amanda. I know what you're going through. As long as you can promise me that you will at least try, that you will go to therapy and talk to me or someone else if you feel the need to gamble, or you feel the need to drink to try to drown out the panic. Can you promise me that?"

Amanda takes a shuddering breath and nods slowly. "Yes, Liv, I promise."

She is completely taken aback, utterly stunned, that after all she has put this woman through, that after hitting rock bottom, Olivia is still here, willing to fight for her and not give up on her, resolute in remaining in her corner and not leaving her alone. No one in her life has ever done anything like this for her before; she has always been used and cast aside, is all too familiar with having to handle everything by herself, and the relief she feels at not having to be all alone anymore with her demons, at having someone who will stick by her until she is back on her feet, is completely overwhelming, and the tears that she has desperately been trying to hold back come pouring down her face now, grateful sobs bursting from her, and she scrambles up from her spot on the bed, throwing herself into Olivia's embrace and clutching onto the other woman tightly.

"Thank you so much, Liv," she gasps, her face buried in the older woman's neck, tears soaking into her skin, hands grasping at her shirt, as Olivia pulls her into her lap, wrapping her arms around the robe Amanda is still wearing.

They hold each other each tightly on top of the disheveled blankets, Olivia rocking her gently, and leaning down to speak softly into her ear.

"Everything is going to be okay, Amanda, I promise. You're never going to be alone again."


	10. Chapter 10

As Amanda slowly rises to consciousness early Monday morning, it is with the odd realization that she is blissfully content, that she is warm and safe, the sunshine just beginning to spill into the bedroom through a crack in the blinds, tiny beams of golden light dancing across the walls. She has slept through the night for the first time in weeks, for once not haunted by terrible dreams, no shadowy figure lurking in the dark corners of her brain, the nightmares banished completely from her mind, and a content smile stretches across her face.

She is buried deep beneath the covers in her bed, arms wrapped snugly around Olivia, who is tucked up with her back against Amanda's chest, and she is happy to be able to do what she should have done for the other woman a long time ago, what Olivia had so desperately needed after going through her own version of hell with Lewis, and that is to hold her. She presses her face into the older woman's hair and closes her eyes again, drifting lazily between sleep and wakefulness, in no hurry to get up and start the day, just wishing to remain here in her comfortable little paradise, her worries not at the forefront of her mind for once, but then she catches herself frowning, as something is not quite right.

It occurs to her that this carefree, cozy little domestic scene is all wrong, that it is too good to be true, that she is not allowed to be happy, is never going to be safe with the mystery man still running loose and in the wind; that he is out there in the world somewhere and could be anywhere at all, perhaps closer than she thinks.

As if on cue, like someone has flipped a switch, the hair on the back of her neck is suddenly standing on end, her skin prickling uncomfortably, as she instantly becomes aware of the fact that she and Olivia are no longer the only two people in her bedroom, that there is another presence here now. There is no sound, no movement at all, the air perfectly still, but Amanda instinctively knows that someone is lingering there in the shadows, just out of sight, lurking in the corner, observing them in slumber as he watches and waits. She hears the faint sound of rain in her ears now, the drops pattering lightly against the window, the room becoming much darker, and she is puzzled, as it had just been sunny a moment ago, her bedroom bright with the promise of a beautiful day. She can smell the faintest whiff of cigarette smoke, the acrid scent wafting beneath her nostrils, a slight haze in the air, and she holds her breath, squeezing her eyes shut, wondering how everything has changed so quickly, how it has all gone so wrong so fast; the peaceful, content feeling of the morning replaced by sheer terror.

She knows she should get up and fight, defend herself and Olivia, put her police training to good use, or at the very least, wake the other woman up so they can make a run for it, but it is no use. She finds herself glued to the bed, unable to make a move or alert Olivia to the situation, but maybe it is better this way; maybe if she pretends she doesn't know he is there, he will lose interest and leave them alone. Maybe if she is just quiet and calm, he will exit her bedroom, her apartment, her life.

It is a strange sensation, laying there, body frozen stiff and unmoving but heart racing wildly out of control, while she waits for an impending attack, waits and does absolutely nothing to prevent what is about to happen. She can hear the footsteps now, soft and creeping, belying how large and heavy the man actually is, and she can feel the sweat beading on her brow, her breathing picking up speed, her fingers curling imperceptibly into the material of Olivia's pajamas, but any movement beyond that seems impossible. Every single one of her senses is on high alert, on fire, heightened to a supreme degree.

Her muscles are coiled and tense, as if ready to spring, waiting to escape, and her breath catches in her throat as the footsteps stop abruptly behind her, feet coming to a standstill on the floor, and everything is silent and still again. Her eyes remain firmly closed as she mentally wills him to go away, to just leave them alone, leave them in peace, but then she feels the bed dip down behind her, as if a knee has been placed upon the mattress, and she bites down hard on her bottom lip, jolted by the sudden pain, the metallic taste of blood blooming on her tongue, and she knows she needs to do something, anything; just make a move, take action somehow.

It seems to take an insurmountable effort for Amanda to part her lips and find her voice, but finally she does. "Olivia, wake up," she whispers urgently.

"'Olivia wake up'," a rough, male voice behind her mimics, and her eyes fly open in alarm, frantic gaze fixed on the back of Olivia's pajama shirt, arms tightening around her waist, and she is aware of her fingernails digging into the older woman's stomach again; that she is hurting her, inflicting new wounds on top of the old, but she can't seem to stop, is molded to the bed, a moan of terror working its way out of her mouth, throat slowly closing and cutting off her airway.

"Olivia, _please_ ," she whimpers, gasping out the words before her throat closes completely.

"'Olivia, _please'_ ," the voice behind her repeats, rough tone rising to a high falsetto, as if in teasing of Amanda's petrified squeak.

It feels like everything has stopped now, like the world is standing still, and she waits with baited breath to see what he is going to do, what his next move is going to be, and even her heart seems to have ceased its rapid beating, everything sliding to a complete halt. Her brow wrinkles slightly as there is no movement whatsoever in the bed now, and she wants to believe that he has left, that he has decided to end this sick game and leave them alone, but she knows better, and cocks her head slightly to the side, the air charged with electricity, crackling with tension.

The voice is suddenly right next to her ear, and she almost jumps out of her skin. "Olivia's not gonna help you, bitch. And I'm not gonna help you either." His dark chuckle seems to echo throughout her brain, reverberating inside her skull. "But I am gonna help myself."

At the first touch of his hand, the muscles of her throat finally unclench and she lets loose a long, shrill scream, the sounds of torment and terror exploding from her lips, and Olivia jolts awake in her suffocating embrace. Amanda can feel the older woman's fingers scrabbling at the hands that are still clutched tightly around her stomach, vaguely hears her alarmed voice asking what is wrong, knows she is trying to turn around in her arms, but she can't stop, can't let go; unable to loosen her hold on her boss or close her mouth so that the horrified wails are silent.

"Liv, help me!" she gasps out. "He's behind me! He's behind me!"

There is an immediate response from the other woman, but the words are lost amid Amanda's harsh breathing and whimpering, and her desperate pleas for her boss to make the man stop hurting her. She can feel the large, sloppy hands on her body, working their way into places that are hidden beneath her pajamas, and she moans in pain, her eyes squeezed shut, continuing to clutch the other woman tightly against her, only wanting to feel Olivia's soft, gentle touch, and not this brutal stranger's.

"Liv, make him stop!" she cries. "It hurts!"

The older woman's hands are clenched onto her own violently trembling ones, and she is finally able to hear Olivia's voice over the sounds of her own terror. "Amanda, no one else is here, sweetheart. Wake up, honey." There is a slight pause and then her boss' voice is firmer, when can't seem to get ahold herself. "Amanda, wake up _now_."

"I am awake!" Amanda shrieks in confusion. "Make him stop, Olivia! Please!"

"Amanda, you're dreaming! There is no one behind you. Let me turn around, sweetheart. You need to let go of me for a minute." Olivia is speaking to her like there is not a strange man kneeling behind her on the bed, doing painful, degrading, humiliating things to her body, and Amanda feels angry and betrayed, not understanding why the other woman won't help her.

"Liv, please," she begs, the words dragged out on a sob. "Make him go away. Just make him leave."

"Honey, I can't even move right now. You're ridiculously strong for such a tiny person, you know that?" Amanda realizes that she is effectively pinning the taller woman to the bed, that her legs, as well as her arms, are wrapped around her now. She recognizes the forced lightheartedness of her boss' tone, the one she uses to try to diffuse the situation, to calm her down, to assure her that everything is okay, and finally realizes that Olivia wouldn't be speaking to her like this if someone is actually behind her in the bed, holding her down and hurting her.

"Sweetheart, you need to let me turn around," Olivia repeats softly, and Amanda can feel the older woman's hands trying to gently pry her fingers away from the death grip she has on her stomach.

"Is-is he gone now?" Amanda mumbles, unsure of what is going on, what is real and what isn't. Her lack of clarity with the situation is frightening her, and she blinks hard, trying to force herself to fully awaken, trusting now that Olivia is telling her the truth, that she has been dreaming, and her hold on the other woman finally loosens somewhat.

"He was never here, honey," Olivia soothes, struggling to turn around in her embrace, the blankets coiled up around both of them now, trapping them in the bed, and finally her boss rips them away in frustration, reaching out to grab Amanda under the arms and pull her up off the pillows.

They are now sitting up in the bed together, amid the tangled covers, Olivia directly in front of her, the older woman's hands firmly grasping each side of her face, thumbs gently stroking over her cheekbones. Their gazes are locked intently on one another, and Amanda can see the worry shining in the other woman's eyes, a tear clinging to one of her dark lashes, and she has the sudden urge to reach out and wipe it away for her, but her hands are shaking so hard, she doesn't think she can even lift them.

"Are you here with me now?" Olivia asks, the slight tremble in her tone betraying the calmness of her voice.

"Y-yeah," Amanda chokes out. "I'm here."

"Good," Olivia whispers, and they continue to stare at each other as Amanda tries to catch her breath, and she can feel the other woman's heart beating through the pads of the thumbs that are continuing to caress her face, fluttering rapidly with tension.

"I didn't try to fight back, Liv," Amanda murmurs. "I didn't protect you, I just waited for him to hurt us. Why didn't I do anything? Why couldn't I move?"

"Sweetheart, you don't need to protect me," Olivia says softly, her hands gliding down to squeeze her shoulders, fingers digging in slightly to massage the tense muscles. "You were dreaming. I'm fine."

"But I wasn't dreaming," Amanda protests, suddenly doubtful again about what has been going on, the scene that has just occurred in her bedroom so vivid that she can't seem to let go of it. "I was awake, Liv, I swear."

"You _weren't_ , honey," Olivia insists quietly. "You were sound asleep. I've been awake for the last couple of hours, listening to you snoring in my ear."

"What?" Amanda still feels like she is unable to grasp what is going on, and she scrubs her hands roughly over her face. "No, you were asleep."

"Sweetheart, listen to what I'm telling you," the older woman says patiently. "I've barely slept all night. I've been wide awake for a couple of hours now. No one has come in here. You have been sleeping peacefully, up until a few minutes ago."

"But..." Amanda is frowning at her now, thoroughly confused. "But it felt so real."

"I know it did," Olivia replies gently, rubbing her hands up and down her arms now. "That's why I'm glad you have the appointment with Dr. Lindstrom this morning. You need to tell him all of this, honey; you need to be honest about everything that has been happening. This is just getting worse, Amanda. It is a horrible thing to watch, to listen to, and I know how hard it must be to actually go through it."

Her chest tightens when she sees Olivia's face crumple slightly, and hears her next words. "You're breaking my heart, Amanda."

"Sorry, Liv," she whispers, feeling tears well up in her eyes, and she is suddenly being pulled into the older woman's arms, her boss holding her firmly against her chest, and she winds her own arms around Olivia's back, clutching tightly onto her pajama shirt.

"You don't need to apologize," Olivia says softly into her ear. "It's not your fault. I'm so sorry you're going through this, honey."

"It feels so real," Amanda murmurs, her thoughts still whirling, her body still buzzing with that fight-or-flight instinct, and she is aware of the pain she is in, aching in places she shouldn't. "It hurts, Liv."

"What hurts?" Olivia whispers.

"Where-where his fingers were," she stutters out, a wave of nausea suddenly hitting her full force. She feels the older woman's grip tighten around her, and a tear splash down onto the bare skin of her neck. Her heart aches at making Olivia so upset, but then the nausea slams into her again, and the intense need to be sick suddenly takes over anything else that she is feeling. "Liv, I need to-" She pulls away abruptly and claps a shaking hand over her mouth.

"Just hold on, honey." Olivia leans over the bed, yanking Amanda's little trash can off the floor by the nightstand, and thrusting it beneath her chin just in time for her to vomit profusely into the metal container.

Once she has started, she can't seem to stop, and she throws up over and over again, on her hands and knees on the bed now, Olivia kneeling behind her, gathering her sweaty hair away from her neck and then softly rubbing her back. Finally she sits back, wiping her fingers across her mouth with a trembling hand, and Olivia's arms close around her, holding her between her legs, keeping her very still and not using the gentle rocking motion that Amanda is getting used to feeling when the older woman is trying to comfort her.

"Oh, honey, you are soaking wet," Olivia says quietly, and she can feel the other woman's hand smoothing the damp strands of hair back from her moist forehead. Her cheeks are flushed and she can feel beads of sweat sliding down her temples. "I think you've soaked right through your pajamas."

"It was a really bad dream," Amanda whispers, bowing her head, and she can feel Olivia's arms wrapping more firmly around her around her now, despite how gross and unkempt she feels, and the older woman is leaning a cheek against the top of her sweaty head.

"I know it was," Olivia replies softly. "Amanda, the things you were screaming, and the physical pain that you're in..." She trails off for a moment and Amanda can hear her taking a deep breath. "Honey, I cannot stress enough how honest you need to be with Dr. Lindstrom this morning. This is vitally important. He needs to know how best to help you."

"I know it's important," Amanda mumbles. "I'll tell him everything, Liv, I promise. I can't stand living like this anymore. I feel like I'm being tortured. He won't leave me alone."

"He will soon, sweetheart, I know he will," Olivia assures her gently. "This won't last forever, I promise you it won't. It will get better."

"I hope you're right, Liv."

They sit there curled up together on the disheveled blankets, and Amanda feels in desperate need of a shower, needs to peel off the wet pajamas that are clinging to her skin, but she can't make herself move out of Olivia's embrace and off the bed. She is too ashamed to voice it out loud, that she is still scared, that she doesn't want to be alone, even for the duration of a shower, and that a part of her is still convinced that the faceless, nameless man will return again. She feels like she isn't safe in any room of her apartment now; that he always seems to find her, no matter where she is or what she is doing.

"Sweetheart, we need to start getting ready to leave, if you're feeling up to it," Olivia says softly, her hand rubbing up and down Amanda's arm, underneath the sleeve of her shirt. "Do you feel well enough to get up?"

"No," she murmurs.

"Do you need to be sick again?" the other woman asks in concern.

Amanda shakes her head, the shame and embarrassment gripping her hard now, and she doesn't want to admit that she still needs the older woman, even for the more intimate parts of getting ready for the day ahead.

As if Olivia is reading her thoughts, her boss leans down to look at her, Amanda's head resting against her shoulder. "You don't want to be alone right now, do you?"

Amanda wordlessly shakes her head, and there is immense relief winding its way through the shame and embarrassment when Olivia assures her that she won't leave her by herself, that she'll sit in the bathroom with her while she takes a shower, if that's what she needs right now. She tells Amanda to start the shower while she washes out the trash can, and that she'll come into the room once she's in the tub, to give her some privacy.

As she struggles out of bed and walks to the door of the bedroom on shaky legs, she can't help noticing that there is no rain pattering against the windows, that the room is bright with sunshine, and that there is no evidence of cigarette smoke in the air; the only scent that she can smell is the strawberry candle sitting atop her dresser. The aches and pains have rapidly dissipated from her body now, and she shakes her head at herself, wishing she could get a proper grip on reality, wishing these dreams were not so vivid and life-like.

xxx

When Amanda is in the bathtub, she stands there with her face pressed against the tiles, the hot water beating down upon her, and realizes that this is quickly becoming her favorite shower position. She is not afraid of anyone sneaking up on her this time, of creeping through the door and sliding the curtain open, stepping into the tub behind her and forcing her to do things against her will. Olivia is keeping her safe, sitting on the floor with her legs stretched out in front of her and her ankles crossed, leaning back against the cabinets, glasses perched on her nose, doing the same crossword puzzle she had been working on in Amanda's bed the other day.

Amanda is fully aware of the absurdity of the situation, her boss working on a puzzle on the floor while she lathers herself up with peach-scented body wash in the tub, and she honestly doesn't know whether to burst into laughter or tears at the current state of her life. A small giggle escapes her lips before she can stop it, and wonders if it is going to turn into full blown hysteria, feeling like she on the verge of losing her mind.

"You okay in there, honey?" Olivia asks, a hint of confusion in her tone.

"Yeah, just thinking."

"About what?"

"Just how every time I think I've hit rock bottom, I manage to slide just a little bit more. Maybe there is no rock bottom," Amanda muses. "Maybe I'll just keep sliding forever." She chuckles humorlessly. "Such a cheerful thought to get the week started."

"Sweetheart-" Olivia starts to say, before Amanda cuts her off.

"How's the crossword coming along?" she asks conversationally, as she works some shampoo into her hair, realizing that the morning has been depressing and frightening enough without adding her dark personal thoughts into the mix.

"It's coming along well," Olivia answers, a little hesitantly. "It's almost done."

"Well, I guess there's a plus side to me having multiple breakdowns," Amanda mutters, scrubbing the shampoo into her scalp harder than is necessary, and then standing beneath the spray of water to rinse it out of her hair. "I'm giving you time for puzzles."

"Amanda, I don't mind," Olivia says softly. "I'll do whatever you need to make you feel safe right now, until you can work out some strategies with Dr. Lindstrom for what to do in these kinds of situations, when you're feeling overwhelmed and scared."

Amanda has an arm folded up against the wall now, and is leaning her face into it, the bottle of conditioner clutched limply in one hand, and she is so exhausted and weary already, even though the day has barely begun. She has the sudden urge to ask Olivia to cancel her appointment, to call in sick to work, and crawl back into bed with her and hold her while she cries, but then rubs her face roughly across her arm, determined not to have another meltdown in the shower. She straightens up, opening the lid on the conditioner and preparing to pour it into her hand, when she hears Olivia shift on the floor.

"Liv, don't leave!" she gasps out, stunned at the panic that immediately stabs through her, dropping the bottle of conditioner onto the bottom of the tub and thrusting her head out through the shower curtain, anxious gaze fixed on the older woman.

"Hey, hey, relax," Olivia soothes, tossing the crossword puzzle aside and springing to feet, smoothing a hand over Amanda's wet hair. "I'm not going anywhere, I was just changing positions, honey. I'm getting a little too old to be sitting on the floor," she chuckles lightly, and Amanda leans into her touch and closes her eyes, as her boss continues to stroke a hand over her head.

"You're not old, Liv," she murmurs, the corner of her lip lifting slightly.

"Well, thanks, honey, but my body disagrees with you," Olivia replies, and Amanda opens her eyes again, her gaze locking onto the other woman's, and her boss frowns at her. "Are you alright, Amanda?" Olivia asks, concern in her tone again, as she runs the backs of fingers gently over her cheek. "I promise I'm not going to leave, okay? I'll stay in here until you're done." She pauses, and it sounds like the concern in her voice has turned to sadness. "I know this morning has been very challenging for you so far."

Amanda nods her head, willing herself not to burst into tears, overcome with anger and frustration that she cannot seem to get through a simple daily task now without it being emotionally overwhelming, without the threat of a complete breakdown, and she has to stop herself from leaning out of the tub to wrap her arms around Olivia, to beg the other woman to hold her until she stops hurting, until she feels normal again. She needs to pull herself together, but doesn't even know where to begin, and can't remember another time in her life when she has felt so helpless and out of control.

The uneasiness she has been feeling lately about her quick attachment to Olivia is becoming more pronounced, and the intensity of her feelings toward the other woman after such a short period of time are frightening her, that need to be with her constantly, to be so physically close, and she finds herself in a state of confusion about their relationship; knows that she has never felt so close to anyone else in her life, is not used to such fierce emotions and is having trouble understanding them. She is all too aware of the fact that she will be coming home alone when her appointment is over, and Olivia will be going to work, and after spending the entire weekend practically glued to the other woman's side, the thought of being by herself in her apartment for hours on end while she waits for Olivia to return is unnerving and disconcerting, and she can't even admit to herself how much it scares her. Amanda reminds herself that she had spent most of the previous week alone, in between staying with Olivia at her apartment and the older woman staying here, and that she can do it again; that this time it will only be hours instead of days that they are separated, but she feels physically ill at the thought of being all by herself once again, especially after starting the day off so terribly.

She doesn't voice any of what she is feeling, though, choosing to keep her thoughts to herself, as Olivia already has her hands full with Amanda's nightmares and panic attacks and addiction issues, and she doesn't want to burden her with anything else. She reminds herself that her boss' primary job is not babysitting her and keeping her company, holding her when she cries and cuddling her while they watch movies; that Olivia has an actual job that she needs to start getting ready for, and that Amanda is holding up the process by not continuing on with her shower.

She reluctantly pulls away from the older woman, assuring her that she is okay, and hurriedly picks up the bottle of conditioner from the bottom of the tub, squeezing a generous amount into her palm before rubbing it briskly into her long locks. She can't help peering through the crack in the shower curtain, though, just to assure herself that Olivia is indeed still here with her, unable to shake off the remnants of the earlier nightmare that seems to be clinging to her like a second skin, and for a split second she is strangely convinced that the man from the alley is going to be staring back at her, having taken the place of Olivia.

The older woman is still here, of course, back on the floor again, her legs crossed now, eyes fixed on the puzzle in front of her, but then she raises her head, one eyebrow quirked, and meets Amanda's gaze. "Are you spying on me, honey?" she asks lightly, and Amanda quickly ducks her head back inside the tub, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Sorry," she says sheepishly. "Just making sure you're still there."

"Amanda, I've told you several times that I'm not going anywhere," Olivia assures her patiently. "Come on, get finished up in there so I can jump in. We need to get moving or we're going to be late for your appointment."

She quickly rinses the conditioner from her hair and then turns the shower off, Olivia passing her a towel through the curtain before she even asks. She dries herself off and wraps the towel around her body, stepping out onto the bathmat, and giving the older woman a small smile.

"Thanks for staying with me, Liv. Let me know if you need a shower buddy too, okay?" The words are out of her mouth before she even knows what she is saying and she winces internally, realizing how inappropriate that had sounded, resisting the urge to cover her eyes and groan.

Olivia doesn't seem perturbed, though, just smirking slightly and thanking her for the offer, her tone slightly teasing, but assuring her that she will be fine on her own. Amanda leaves the bathroom, rolling her eyes at her own behavior and feeling flustered, a blush of embarrassment spreading across her cheeks again.

When she is in her bedroom searching through the clothes in her closet, wondering what one wears to a consultation appointment with a therapist, she finds that her thoughts are once again in complete turmoil, as they always seem to be now. Olivia is on her mind a lot these days, mixing in with the faceless, nameless man from the alley, the worry she has about the intensity of her panic attacks and the frequency of her nightmares, that urge to gamble still going strong, and she figures that Dr. Lindstrom is going to have a field day with her, that she has so many different issues that are all merging together into one giant mess, that he is not even going to know where to start.

She is doing up the buttons on her blouse, when she hears it again; the sudden patter of rain against the window behind her. Amanda freezes, her hands stilling against her shirt, and she knows that she is wide awake now, can see the sun shining brightly on the wall in front of her. She can smell the faint scent of smoke in the air now, and she squeezes her eyes shut, digging the heels of her hands into her closed eyelids, her heart rate picking up, sweat blooming on her forehead.

"It's okay, everything is okay," she whispers to herself, but then her heart is in her throat as she hears footsteps behind her, coming to a halt at her bedroom door, and she is afraid to turn around, terrified that it won't be Olivia standing there, but someone else, someone who wants to do her harm.

"Hey," Olivia's voice says, and Amanda whirls around, immensely relieved to see the other woman standing there, wrapped in a robe and rubbing a towel through her wet hair. "Are you alright?" she asks, frowning in concern, and Amanda gives a shaky nod.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she mumbles, hoping the other woman won't notice the way her hands are trembling as she continues buttoning her blouse.

"Are you sure?" Olivia asks, her frown deeper now, pulling the towel away from her head.

"Yeah," Amanda replies, fixing her with a tremulous smile, resolving to save her issues for the doctor and not continue to burden her boss with them. "I'm fine, Liv."

"Okay," the older woman says, still sounding unconvinced, but apparently choosing not to press further. "Are you almost ready to go?"

"Yes," she replies firmly, and she knows that truer words have never been spoken, that she is in desperate need of help, that she can't continue to live this way. "I'm more than ready."


	11. Chapter 11

Amanda is sitting in the corner of a tiny Italian restaurant a block away from her apartment, gnawing halfheartedly on a bread stick while she waits for Olivia to arrive. She has specifically requested this table, her back to the wall so no one can sneak up on her, giving her a good view of the entire room. This long day is finally drawing to a close and she is slumped in her chair, feeling both exhausted and restless, her usual anxiety humming at a low level just beneath the surface, and her foot taps impatiently against the marbled floor, eyes fixed on the door, keeping a lookout for her boss. Olivia is running late, having caught a new case shortly before leaving the precinct, and has texted Amanda to let her know that she will be there as soon as she can.

They have agreed to meet for a quick dinner before heading back to Amanda's apartment for the night, neither one of them in the mood to cook, both of their days emotionally and physically draining, and Amanda is quite eager to see the older woman, as they have now been separated for the past several hours. Her day has been unexpectedly busy, and she has not yet returned home since leaving the apartment with Olivia that morning for her consultation with Dr. Lindstrom. She had shocked herself by staying out for the entire day; had not been sure that she would be able to handle being out and about in public for such a long period of time, left to her own devices, but had decided that she couldn't bear to return home alone after the appointment, while Olivia went to the precinct without her.

The long hours of being cooped up in her apartment all by herself, pacing and thinking and waiting for her boss to return, seeing the shadow of the man from the alley out of the corner of her eye and imagining all the horrible things he would do to her, had been too intolerable to even contemplate, and she has been able to fill her day more productively. Amanda had gone straight to a Gamblers Anonymous meeting from the therapist's office, and stopped for lunch before attending another meeting, and then gathering every ounce of courage she had to go for a walk in the park, desperate for some much-needed exercise. She had been able to grit her teeth through the meetings, feeling an extreme need to attend so that she wasn't tempted to wander into any of the nearby casinos, although she had not said a word and had just listened, avoiding eye contact with any of the men, only having to duck into the bathroom a couple of times to try to get ahold of her seemingly never ending supply of anxiety. Her time in the park had been a total disaster, though, and had not lasted long, as she had accidentally collided with a male jogger while walking along the path, and had found herself huddled on a bench, rocking back and forth and talking herself down from yet another panic attack, trying desperately to keep from calling Olivia and begging her to leave work and come pick her up.

The appointment with Dr. Lindstrom had gone quite well, although it had just been an initial assessment and they had barely begun to scratch the surface of the multiple issues that are plaguing her. She already has another appointment set up for Thursday, as the doctor had concluded from their brief time together that she is in need of intense therapy and will be coming in for appointments on a very regular basis until she can get settled to a point where every single daily activity is not cause for a massive emotional breakdown. In the meantime, she has been given a few strategies for trying to work through her panic attacks, which she has been implementing throughout the course of the day without much success so far, but figures she just needs more time to work on them.

She had been very nervous before the appointment, as she and Olivia had sat in the small waiting room together, body twitching and leg bouncing up and down restlessly, until the older woman had reached over to lay a calming hand on her thigh to halt the movements, lacing their fingers together, thumb rubbing soothingly along the back of her hand. Amanda had relaxed somewhat at her boss' gentle touch and had been able to get through the assessment fairly well, despite being alone in a room with a member of the opposite sex. Sharing the same therapist makes her feel oddly closer to the other woman now, more connected, instead of offended and angry, like the first time around.

She and Olivia had been keeping in contact throughout the day by texting regularly, and the older woman had called on her lunch break to check in and see how her how day was going, discussing her appointment at length, surprised to hear that Amanda had been out of the apartment for so long. She has been very appreciative that her boss has made such an effort to keep in touch, knowing Olivia currently has her plate full juggling multiple cases, including her own. She is aware that Olivia had been very reluctant to leave her alone after the therapy session and had wanted to take the day off to spend with her, since the morning had gotten off to such a rough start, but it had been impossible, as they are now short staffed due to Amanda's absence. Fin and Carisi had been filled in on the details of her longer break from the precinct, and she has received a few concerned texts from each of them throughout the course of the day, her heart clenching with every message, realizing how much she misses them and still feeling that desperation to come back to work, even though she can barely get through something as simple as a shower without having a meltdown.

Amanda feels a wave of relief sweep over her when the front door of the restaurant opens and Olivia steps inside, dark hair slightly tousled from the wind, but looking beautiful even after a long, hard day of work; clad in a simple, classic black pantsuit, patterned white blouse beneath her blazer, topped off with subtle gold jewelry. She gets to her feet, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth when she meets the taller woman's gaze across the restaurant, Olivia nodding at her and heading in her direction. Amanda has the sudden urge to put her arms out for a hug when her boss reaches their table, but there is no answering smile from the older woman, just a brief, distracted hello, and there is something standoffish about her posture, so she refrains, frowning slightly as they settle into their chairs, Olivia pulling her glasses out of her purse so she can read from the menu in front of her.

"How was your day, Liv?" she asks somewhat hesitantly, running her tongue along the cut on her bottom lip that she can't seem to leave alone.

"Busy," Olivia sighs, tearing her eyes away from the food choices and glancing up at her, seeming to notice the frown on her face. "Sorry, Amanda, I'm just a little wiped out from the day. I'm so glad your therapy appointment went well this morning, and that you were able to get out of the apartment for awhile." She smiles at her now, but it doesn't reach her eyes, and Amanda regards her in silence for a moment, taking in the purple smudges beneath the other woman's tired gaze, the tension around her mouth, and she is once again seized by that familiar guilt; that Olivia is meeting her here for dinner and staying overnight with her again, when she should have been free to go home to her own place for some much-needed rest and relaxation, as it is obvious how worn out she is.

She bites down on the need to apologize, to ask yet again if Olivia is sure that this is what she wants; staying with Amanda, sharing her apartment and her bed and basically never having the chance for any time to herself, until Amanda is back on her feet, until she can make it through at least one night without being tormented by anxiety and nightmares and flashbacks. She chastises herself for her selfishness, her clinginess, her neediness, when Olivia is trying to run the SVU, dealing with victims all day long and then coming home to her; to her problems and her fears and her worries, and she finds herself forgetting from time to time that the other woman has a personal life, a life which Amanda is not privy to, aside from the occasional glimpse when her boss is in a sharing mood. She wonders if Olivia is sick of her yet, if she regrets agreeing to stay with her for an indefinite period of time, but is too scared to ask, too afraid to hear the answer, aware that the possible rejection would be not be something that she would easily be able to get over, that it would in fact devastate her.

She cocks her head to the side, studying Olivia's facial expression, and realizes that the older woman is more than just tired; she is sad, and Amanda's heart aches for her, wanting to know why, wanting to fix it for her and be there for the other woman like Olivia has been there for her. Even though this hadn't gone over well the last time she had brought it up, she thinks she knows what the problem might be, and who that problem might be with. "Did you see Tucker today?" she asks casually.

Olivia looks up sharply, eyeing her over the frames of her glasses, one eyebrow arched slightly, lips pressing together in a thin line, and Amanda resists the urge to glance away, meeting her boss' gaze straight on. "Why do you ask?" the other woman questions, voice even, tone betraying nothing.

Amanda shrugs and can't maintain eye contact any longer, blue eyes falling to the open menu in front of her on the table, feigning interest in the list of meals available, even though she is not the least bit hungry. She has thrown up more times over the past couple of days than the past couple of years combined, and it is hard to stomach the thought of forcing herself to eat when she doesn't have any interest. "I'm just making conversation."

"Kind of an odd thing to make conversation about," Olivia murmurs, both eyebrows raised now, and Amanda can't help the blush that is spreading across her cheeks. "But yes, we did deal with him briefly today."

She nods, her own eyebrows lifting now, waiting for Olivia to continue, but her boss stops talking, gaze once again focused on the menu in front of her. She opens her mouth to speak again, but the older woman cuts her off.

"Make conversation about something else, Amanda," she says firmly, without looking up.

"Okay..." she mumbles, fingers playing with the fork next to her plate, foot tapping a staccato rhythm out on the floor again. "Tell me about this new case you guys just got."

"I don't think it's appropriate to discuss the details of cases with you while you're on leave, Amanda," Olivia replies. "You're trying to get back on your feet right now, and you don't need to hear about what's going on at work. That's why you're taking a break."

Amanda rolls her eyes, feeling a spike of irritation now. "Well, is there anything I _am_ allowed to discuss?" she answers snarkily, wishing she had something to focus on besides her own issues. "What about my own case? Any progress there?"

Olivia looks up at that, her eyes fixing on Amanda's again, expression sympathetic now, and tone softening somewhat when she speaks. "No, honey, I'm sorry. You know I would have told you if there was."

Amanda nods, not having expected to hear any different, and tries to tamp down the disappointment; the fear that this random stranger who had shown up out of the blue to throw her life into a tailspin will always be running loose, the potential for both his return and his capture highly unlikely, and she is certain that if he hasn't re-offended already, he will in the near future, irrevocably damaging another unsuspecting woman's life like he had her own.

She finds herself oddly relieved that Olivia has referred to her as "honey", as she is getting used to the almost constant pet names now, and knows she would snarl in response if anyone else was calling her "honey" or "sweetheart" on a regular basis, but finds it oddly endearing when her boss does it; feels something warm unfurl inside of her chest every time one of the names is used, and she thinks this might be an indication of the conversation turning around, that maybe Olivia isn't sick of her, that perhaps she will open up a bit more. The older woman has been slightly more open with her lately, disclosing some personal information about her past, and Amanda is disappointed that she seems to be closing herself off once again. She finds herself very eager to listen every time Olivia divulges anything of a personal nature to her, wanting to get to know her better, needing to be on equal footing with her, a tiny part of her afraid that her boss will think she is only using her because she doesn't want to be alone, and not because she genuinely wants her around, that she appreciates her company and has found that she actually loves spending time with her.

A waiter comes over to the table to rhyme off a list of the specials and take their orders, and Amanda is tempted to order a bottle of wine to calm both of their nerves, but she doesn't think Olivia will appreciate the gesture after what had happened the other night. She ends up ordering spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread and salad, even though her stomach turns over at the thought of consuming all of that food, but it reminds her of the meal that the older woman had cooked for them on the weekend, and she figures if she has to force herself to eat, it might as well be something that conjures up a pleasant memory.

Amanda studies the other woman after the waiter leaves, Olivia looking withdrawn and worn down, and she is concerned for her, wants her boss to confide in her, needs to be able to provide her with some comfort. Olivia's hand is resting on top of the tablecloth and she slides her own hand over the other woman's, fingers stroking gently back and forth, tracing soothing patterns across her skin.

"What's wrong, Liv?" she asks softly, and then frowns deeply, feeling a sharp stab of hurt, when Olivia pulls away from her, removing her arm from the table and tucking her hand down onto her lap, apparently choosing not to respond, as she remains silent.

Her throat suddenly feels tight and she swallows hard, determined not to start crying because of this slight rejection, and she finds herself wishing it was easy and comfortable between them again, like it had been the night before. Despite the drama that had occurred after Olivia had awoken from her nap the previous afternoon, and with Amanda suffering from a severe hangover, they had actually managed to have a nice evening together, returning to Olivia's apartment so her boss could pack a suitcase for her stay at Amanda's, and then ordering Chinese food and snuggling under a blanket on the couch together while they had watched more silly movies, laughing and enjoying a much-needed break from anxiety and nightmares and heavy conversation. The fact that they are both in foul moods and Olivia is distracted and upset about something does not bode well for a nice evening out, and Amanda finds that her concern for her boss is overwhelming her own personal issues, and she resolves to put them on the back burner so she can focus all of her attention on the older woman. She has missed her for the entire day and has been looking forward to seeing her, and this is not how she has envisioned this evening playing out; is disappointed that they don't seem to be getting along very well.

"Liv, do I need to kick Tucker's ass for you?" she blurts out, not enjoying this awkward silence between them, unable to stand seeing the other woman in pain, and delighted by the sudden snort of laughter that escapes Olivia's lips.

"No, Amanda," her boss chuckles lightly. "I appreciate the offer, but that won't be necessary."

She is smiling now, feeling like the ice has been broken between them, giving her the courage to push a little more. "Well, if he hurt you, he deserves to have his ass kicked." When the other woman doesn't answer, she continues speaking. "There must be something I can do for you. Like maybe provide a listening ear?"

Olivia is sighing now, all traces of mirth disappearing from her expression, and she rubs her hands over her face in an exhausted gesture. "Amanda, I don't want to burden you, not with everything you have going on right now."

Amanda raises her eyebrows incredulously. "Liv, you had got to be kidding me. After everything you have done for me over the past couple of weeks, I think I must owe you one of my kidneys by this point."

She is gratified to see the corner of Olivia's lip quirk up once more, slight amusement on her tired features, and again she has to clamp down on that urge to reach out to her boss with open arms and pull her into a hug. There is something so heartwarming about seeing the older woman smile and laugh, and it hurts her to think of Olivia in pain; if there is anyone deserving of happiness in their life, it is the woman sitting across from her.

"Amanda, I just feel a bit uncomfortable discussing certain things with you while all of this is going on," Olivia say softly. "It's honestly not a big deal, not compared to what is happening with you. I don't want to complain about things that don't matter."

Amanda is staring at her boss now, eyebrows still raised. "Weren't you the one telling me that you can't compare pain? And whatever it is obviously matters to you."

She is surprised to see a blush staining the older woman's cheeks now, and Olivia looks away, expression hesitant and uncertain, guilt radiating from her. "It's really not a big deal, Amanda," she insists quietly. " _You're_ the one who is making a big deal out of it, not me. I was in a relationship and it ended on Friday night, right before I came to your place, okay? It's as simple as that."

"I'm so sorry, Liv," she replies sincerely, feeling awful about Olivia having to deal with her severe anxiety issues immediately after a break up. "And I'm only making a big deal out of it because it's like pulling teeth to get you to talk me about anything, and you're obviously hurting. I just want to help you."

She sees that faint smile on Olivia's face again. "I'm okay, Amanda, really. I guess I'm just...sad."

"Did he break your heart?" she whispers, gaze fixed intently on the older woman's face.

"No, he didn't, honey," Olivia replies quietly. "It wasn't his fault that things happened the way they did. It wasn't mine either. Everything just kind of fell apart. It was a mutual decision to end it." She pauses for a moment. "It's not even him, specifically."

"Then what is it?" Amanda asks softly, a little taken aback and heartbroken to see tears suddenly welling up in the other woman's eyes, her boss blinking them away furiously.

"This is ridiculous," Olivia sighs, scrubbing her hands over her face. "I'm not going to sit here and cry in a restaurant because of a failed relationship, and certainly not one that I was in agreement on ending."

"You can if you want," Amanda says softly. "God knows, I've certainly cried enough in front of you. That's practically all I do now, Liv. You know, you don't have to be so tough and strong all the time. It's okay to let someone else be there for you. That's something I've had to learn. Something I'm still learning," she corrects herself. "If it's not Tucker, specifically, then what is it?" she asks again.

The sudden silence between them stretches out for so long, that she is sure she has pushed too far, that her boss is going to abruptly end the conversation again, and she will not get an answer.

"I'm just lonely," Olivia finally admits in a small voice, and Amanda feels a stab of pain in her heart. "I wanted to make it work. I thought we had something for awhile and then it became obvious that we didn't." There is another pause, the silence lengthening again for a long moment. "I just thought things would be different at this point in my life, at my age. I don't have much in the way of family and I guess I wanted to create my own."

"I understand wanting to create your own," Amanda whispers, her throat feeling tight, as she observes the sadness on the other woman's face. "I have family, but they're not exactly people I'm eager to spend a lot of time with. And I understand loneliness too." She neglects to mention that the only time she has been lonely over the past few days was when she was apart from Olivia for several hours that day; that the older woman has filled a void she hadn't even been aware of. There is a part of her that hopes she can fill that void for Olivia too; that maybe her boss isn't actually sick of her and enjoys her company, despite Amanda's current inability to hold her sanity together for any lengthy amount of time. Maybe spending so much time together is something Olivia actually needs right now too.

She doesn't voice any of her thoughts on the topic, though; just watches as the other woman quickly swipes a finger under both eyes before resting one of her hands on the table again. This time when Amanda slides her own hand over Olivia's, her boss doesn't pull away, and they sit there in silence for several minutes, the din of conversation from other patrons, the rushing of waiters, and the clanging of dishes from the kitchen becoming muted in her mind, as they gaze at each other, the quiet feeling more comfortable now, and Amanda scrapes her fingernails gently over the older woman's skin, glad that Olivia has confided in her and that she is able to provide her with a little comfort.

She doesn't know why she suddenly feels the need to ask this question, and the words are out of her mouth almost before she is aware that she is saying them. "Did you love him, Liv?"

Olivia stares at her for a moment and Amanda finds herself holding her breath while she waits for an answer. "I think I could have," the older woman finally say softly. "I think it was heading in that direction before it all fell apart."

Something sharp twists inside Amanda's chest and she frowns slightly, not understanding this reaction or the rush of melancholy that overcomes her, but feeling the need to pull her hand away from Olivia's, trying to pretend she doesn't see the questioning, faintly hurt look on the other woman's face.

"I'm sorry you're going through this, Liv," she mumbles, fiddling with her napkin, resisting the urge to start tearing it to shreds, but not knowing why.

"Thank you for listening, Amanda," her boss says quietly. "I appreciate it."

She nods, gaze fixed on the tablecloth, and there is silence once again, but this time it feels like it did before, that awkwardness between them, and she sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down before she feels Olivia's foot nudging her own underneath the table, the other woman's usual silent reminder to stop with the self destructive behaviour.

Their dinners arrive just at that moment, the steam from the spaghetti and meatballs wafting unpleasantly under her nose, and she is overcome with a wave of nausea; can't remember a time when she has been less interested in eating, and the thought of having to consume the ridiculous amount of food on her plate has her swallowing hard and trying not to press a hand over her mouth. Olivia seems to be the opposite, though, diving into her dinner with gusto, the conversation on hold now so her boss can eat, and Amanda guesses that the older woman hasn't had a lot of time for meals that day.

She picks at her food, twirling the strands of spaghetti around her fork and pushing the meatballs across her plate with her knife, not realizing how audibly she has sighed, until Olivia looks up from her dinner with her eyebrows raised.

"Amanda, you're playing with your food like a grumpy toddler," she chides gently. "You need to eat something, honey. You're disappearing before my eyes. Every time I hug you, there seems to be less of you than there was before."

"I'm not hungry," she mutters, the exhaustion of the day settling firmly in her bones, feeling like an actual weight upon her shoulders now, pushing her down to slump in her chair like the pouting toddler Olivia has accused her of being.

"What's wrong, Amanda?" the other woman asks softly. "How's your anxiety doing? Are you having a panic attack?"

"No," she answers, poking at an errant meatball with her knife again. "Well, not really. The anxiety is just always there now, even when it's not really bad, just underneath the surface."

"I'm sorry, honey," Olivia murmurs sympathetically. "If it's not the panic, then what is it?"

"I don't know," she replies honestly, not able to pinpoint exactly what the problem is.

She looks up from her plate to see that Olivia's eyebrows are raised now, dark gaze fixed intently on her own. "You don't know what's wrong?"

Amanda shakes her head, suddenly feeling too tired to speak, and she thinks she has worn herself out from spending the entire day out of her apartment, when she is no longer used to it.

Olivia sighs, the sound both annoyed and concerned. "Please just tell me, Amanda."

"I don't _know_ , Liv," she insists. "I can't tell you what I don't know."

Olivia is frowning skeptically at her, like she doesn't believe her, but Amanda doesn't know what else to say, can't seem to articulate exactly what she is feeling and having absolutely no desire to try. All she wants now is to go home and bury herself beneath the covers on her bed, hoping to be sucked into a dreamless sleep for once.

The rest of the meal is very quiet, not much conversation shared between the two of them, and Amanda is able to choke down a quarter of her dinner, the food tasting like sawdust on her tongue. Olivia pays the bill, covering Amanda's share, even though they both know it was a waste of money, and she murmurs her thanks as they get to their feet and head out the door for the short walk back to her apartment.

The night is chilly and breezy and Amanda shivers while they stride quickly in the direction of home, huddling into her coat for warmth and wishing she was huddling into Olivia's embrace instead. She is tired and worn down from the day after pouring her heart out to Dr. Lindstrom during the consultation, and the constant need to be vigilant about her anxiety issues while out in public, always on the lookout for anyone who might intend to do her harm, and she feels as if all the energy has been sucked out of her, the odd strain between she and Olivia not doing anything to lift her mood, and just making everything seem more complicated.

Amanda feels an urgent need to fix whatever might be wrong, not able to stand the sudden distance between them, and she reaches out to hook a hesitant pinky finger around Olivia's as they walk, gently swinging their arms back and forth. She is relieved when the other woman doesn't pull away, tightening her finger around Amanda's, and they continue on their short journey home, the shared silence more content now.

As they approach her apartment building, Amanda suddenly finds her gaze drawn to the alley next door, taking notice of a shadowy figure within the depths, standing just off the sidewalk, partially obscured by darkness. Her breath catches in her throat, and just like that, any peacefulness that has been achieved is instantly obliterated as the anxiety that has been simmering just below the surface, seemingly lying in wait for any opportunity to make a reappearance, slams back into her with the force of a train, and she turns desperately toward Olivia, throat too tight to speak, eyes crying out silently for help.

Any tension and strangeness that has been lingering between them immediately dissipates, as Olivia tugs her gently by the finger, pulling Amanda against her body, arm wrapping firmly around her waist and tucking her into her side. "Come here, honey, it's okay, I've got you," she murmurs, obviously having seen the same person Amanda had. "It's not a man standing there, sweetheart, it's a woman. I think she's just waiting for someone."

Amanda's arm immediately slides underneath the older woman's blazer to wrap around her back, hand clutching onto the front of Olivia's blouse, greatly in need of the physical contact to ground her before everything spirals out of control once again. She sees that her boss is right, as a young woman steps from the alleyway, almost directly into their path, and runs up to a man striding toward them, throwing her arms around him and kissing him on the cheek.

She feels utterly ridiculous now, the embarrassment spreading rapidly through her, as Olivia guides her in the door of her building, and tries to tamp down the spiking panic, telling herself that everything is okay, and that she has jumped to conclusions as usual. They get on the elevator, and Amanda is relieved to find it empty, as she is having trouble calming down after her silly, brief mistake outside, and she leans tiredly against Olivia, her body both exhausted and jumpy, feeling as if she is being pulled in two different directions.

"It's okay, honey, we're almost home," Olivia soothes, running a gentle hand through her hair. "Why don't we just curl up on the couch and watch a goofy movie before going to bed?"

Amanda nods her head against the older woman's shoulder, closing her eyes at the elevator ascends to her floor, trying to slow her rapid heart rate, and just concentrate on being present with Olivia, glad that their love of stupid movies seems to be turning into a nightly routine; a nice, simple way to wind down before bed, a chance to turn off their brains and laugh for awhile.

They are halfway to the correct floor, when the elevator coasts slowly to a stop and the doors slide open, two young men getting on, chatting animatedly with one another, exchanging playful shoves, and Amanda's panic is suddenly ramping back up, exploding so quickly that her heart feels like it is trying to rip itself from her chest with the force it is pounding with. She presses herself against Olivia, aware that the older woman has turned her body so that she is shielding her from the men, and she clings desperately to her, the anxiety spiking violently and promising not to settle down nearly as fast as the last attack had.

The men standing beside them have fallen silent now, and all Amanda can hear is her own harsh breathing and Olivia murmuring quietly to her, and she knows they are being watched, that the men's eyes are fixed upon her, regarding her with curiosity, and her dinner is threatening to make a reappearance as she stands there on shaking legs, clutching onto the older woman like she is the only thing keeping her from breaking completely to pieces.

"Liv, I need to get out of here," she mutters in alarm, squeezing her eyes shut and hiding her face in her boss' shoulder as the elevator begins moving again.

"It's alright, honey, we're almost there," Olivia says softly, fingers stroking her windblown blonde hair back from her face, and trailing down her cheek. "Just another minute, okay?"

"No, it's not okay," Amanda chokes out, cracking an eye open to see both men staring straight at her, expressions confused, and watches them exchange a glance with each other, muttering together under their breaths. She is suddenly convinced that they are planning something, are about to do something awful to she and Olivia, trapping them in here in this tight, confined space and hurting them, and the unseen claws of panic are wrapped so tightly around her throat now, that she can barely speak. "Liv, we need to get out here," she pleads again. "Something bad is going to happen."

"Nothing bad is going to happen, Amanda," the older woman says softly into her ear. "Everything is fine; we're safe."

"Is she alright?" one of the men asks, sounding both hesitant and concerned, pulling a cell phone out of the pocket of his baggy jeans. "Does she need help or something?"

"She'll be fine," Olivia replies, voice calm and steady, fingers tracing gentle circles across her back now.

"Really? Because she doesn't look fine," the man answers, reaching an arm out as if to place a hand upon her, and Amanda lets loose with a terrified shriek, the sound erupting inside the tiny box they are standing in and bouncing off the walls, echoing painfully in her own ears.

The man yanks his arm back suddenly, eyes wide open with alarm, "Jesus, what the hell is wrong with her?"

"Please don't touch her," Olivia snaps, and Amanda feels herself being turned further away from the others. "It's okay, sweetheart," her boss soothes, arms tightening around her so that Amanda is cocooned in her warm embrace, face still pressed against her shoulder, the fear she is feeling so intense and all-consuming now, that she is literally choking on it, strangled little cries emitting from her throat. "We're going to get off; just hold on a second."

"What the hell is wrong with her?" the man repeats, his tone more demanding now. "Look, I can call for help." Amanda can see him holding up the cell phone out of the corner of her eye, and can feel Olivia swiftly shaking her head.

"She's fine," he boss repeats firmly, stabbing at the elevator buttons to try to get it to come to a halt so they can step off.

"Look, ma'am, obviously she's not," the man replies, holding up his hands, voice quivering slightly now, as Olivia stares him down. "She's having some kind of freak out here. I can call for an ambulance, if you want. Or maybe the police?"

"I _am_ the police," Olivia states, tone sharp. "We appreciate your concern, but you don't need to call anyone. We're getting off right now. Come on, sweetheart, let's go," she says, voice dropping back down to the low, soothing tone, as the elevator slides to a stop one floor below Amanda's, and the doors open with a ding.

She can hear the alarmed conversation of the men and see their bewildered gazes fixed on her as the doors slide shut again and she and Olivia are left alone in the hallway. She expects to feel a massive wave of relief now that they are free of that suffocating little box and the potential harm from those strangers, but there is only more panic, heightening to a degree she hasn't yet experienced, and she finds herself bent over in the harshly lit hallway, hands on her knees, lips wide open, trying to suck in a mouthful of air that just isn't there. Her mind is racing wildly, bouncing back and forth between her current location and that rainy, dingy alleyway of a few weeks ago, and she again experiences that feeling of unreality, like she is not totally sure where she is, Olivia seeming to shimmer before her, the shadowy man of her nightmares appearing for a second to take her place, before she is staring in desperation at her boss once again, the older woman bending down next to her, speaking a rapid string of words that she is unable to comprehend.

"Liv, I don't want to get in the car," she murmurs, the unseen hands around her throat loosening just enough for the words to spill from her lips. "Please don't make me go with them. I want to stay with you."

"Honey, there is no car," Olivia answers, voice stern now, and Amanda can feel the other woman pressing herself against her back, arms sliding around her waist, hands clasped at her stomach, trying to get her to straighten up. "You need to come back from wherever you are right now, Amanda. You're in your apartment building with me, and you're safe. We just need to get up to the next floor and we'll be home, okay? Do you think you can handle the stairs?"

Amanda's knees are buckling now, and she hears Olivia let out a string of curse words behind her, the older woman's grip tightening around her body, trying to keep her from falling to the floor. "Okay, I think I have my answer," she mutters. "Listen, honey, we're going to wait for the next elevator, and if anyone else is in there, we won't get on, okay?"

Amanda finds that she is unable to speak again, and she scrabbles wildly at Olivia's hands with clumsy fingers, silently begging her to make this torture stop.

"Okay, honey, let's try to calm things down now." The other woman is still pressed against her back, holding Amanda firmly to her chest, chin resting on her shoulder, lips next to her ear. "What did Dr. Lindstrom tell you to do in this situation? You mentioned that he gave you several different coping mechanisms to try during your panic attacks, until your next appointment, when you can going into more detail. What did he tell you to do, sweetheart? Let's try one of them, okay?"

"I don't know, I don't know!" Amanda gasps out in panic, squeezing her eyes shut as the florescent lights seem to be assaulting her vision now, are much too bright for her to handle. "I can't remember!"

"Just try to recall one thing," Olivia replies softly. "Just one."

"I _can't_ ," she insists, her brain completely blank now, not able to focus on anything except the severe lack of air in this hallway and her excruciating need to be able to take a deep breath. "God, what's the point of fucking therapy if I can't even remember a damn thing I'm supposed to do?! It's a waste of time!"

"Amanda, you've had _one_ appointment. You need to give it a chance," Olivia answers, both of them looking up suddenly as the elevator doors open in front of them, Amanda's heart racing in trepidation and then feeling a tiny curl of relief as her eyes fix on the empty space in front of them, no one else in the elevator that they might need to escape from.

Olivia walks them both inside, still pressed up against her, legs behind Amanda's, her strides matching the older woman's exactly, and then anchors them to the ground once the doors close and they are moving again, obviously trying to make sure Amanda doesn't lose her balance and slip out of her firm grasp. She still can't get her breathing under control and the walls shift alarmingly in her peripheral vision, undulating like waves on the ocean, and she closes her eyes, willing it all to stop.

They somehow make it into her apartment, collapsing in a heap together on the couch, Amanda straddling Olivia's legs, knees planted on either side of the other woman's thighs, arms winding their way around the back of her neck, and they are face to face now, eyes locked on each other, Olivia's hands grasping gently onto each side of her head.

"Okay, Amanda, come on, you can do this," she urges. "Just think of one thing that Dr. Lindsrom told you to do, and we can try to make this all stop. Just one thing. You can do it."

Amanda racks her brain, trying desperately to recall one of the coping strategies that the therapist had discussed with her, but it is so difficult to think when she can barely suck in enough air to remain conscious, and she tries to focus on Olivia's steady dark gaze. Finally, something occurs to her, and she is able to choke out the words.

"An-an object," she gasps breathlessly.

"Okay," Olivia coaxes, her brow wrinkling slightly. "Can you expand on that a bit, honey? An object? Something to hold onto?"

Amanda squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, trying to bring up Dr. Lindstrom's exact words in her mind, and then nods. "Y-yes. I'm supposed to have something tangible to hold onto, something small enough to fit in my pocket, that I can hold when I'm having a panic attack." She tries to suck in a mouthful of air so she can continue speaking. "It's supposed to ground me, shifting my focus from the anxiety to the object." She coughs painfully. "If I focus all of my senses on it, my thoughts are supposed to move away from the panic and fixate onto the object instead."

"Okay, that's a great idea, honey," Olivia enthuses, and the other woman is smiling encouragingly at her now. "Have you picked an object?"

Amanda shakes her head, on the verge of tears now, as this is the one thing she hasn't done today, such a simple task that she hasn't been able to complete, and it suddenly seems like such a big deal that she doesn't have this object with her, has nothing to grasp onto to tether her to reality, and her fingers clench onto the arms of Olivia's blazer. She bursts into tears, sobbing in despair, the varying emotions of the day overwhelming her now, the exhaustion crashing down upon her, and her head droops against the older woman's shoulder, tears leaking onto her dressy work outfit.

"I didn't pick anything, Liv," she cries in anguish, and feels her boss' arms looping around her back, rubbing quickly and firmly against her jacket.

"It's okay, honey," Olivia soothes gently. "You have an entire home full of objects to pick. You probably have something right here in your purse that you can choose. You can pick anything at all."

"No, I don't have anything!" Amanda insists, agonized sobs bursting from her now, and she can't seem to get a grip on herself, part of her realizing that it shouldn't be this important, that it doesn't really matter, but she is so utterly overwhelmed by everything now, that she is spiraling even further out of control and can't get a handle on herself.

"Alright, it's okay, sweetheart, it's okay; I have something for you." She is aware of Olivia leaning over to pull something out of her purse, what looks to be a wallet, and she tightens her arms around the older woman so she doesn't slip off of her lap. "Here," the other woman says, taking her hand into her own and unfurling her clenched fingers, pressing something tiny and cold into her sweaty palm, and then closing her fingers around it.

"What's this?" Amanda asks, dragging a shaky arm across her eyes so she can see through all the tears. She opens her hand, squinting at the object she is holding, and realizes that it is a tiny silver ring, glinting daintily in the dim light of the living room.

"It's a ring my mother gave me as a child," Olivia says quietly, reaching up to gently wipe a tear from her wet cheek. "I keep it tucked into my wallet so it's with me all the time, especially when I'm at work. Just knowing it's there is helpful when things get tough sometimes."

Amanda is utterly astounded and she gapes at her boss in astonishment, jaw hanging open for a moment. "Liv, I can't take this..."

"Yes, you can," Olivia replies softly, curling Amanda's fingers tighter around the ring. "It's only temporary. You can give it back to me when things start to settle down for you. But for now, you can use it as your object when you need it, and you'll know that I'm with you and thinking of you, even when I'm not physically here."

Amanda stares at her, at a complete loss for words now, and the tears which had started to slow somewhat, are suddenly streaming from her eyes in rivulets once more, pouring down her cheeks, and she has never been so touched by a gesture in her entire life. "Thank you, Liv," she whispers, a tendril of awe in her tone. "I'll take good care of it, I promise."

"I know you will," Olivia murmurs, smiling gently at her and stroking a hand over her heated cheek. "Whenever you hold it, just remember that your best friend is thinking of you and I'll always be here."

Amanda gazes quietly at the older woman, thinking that Olivia is teasing her once again for her drunken comment the other night, just to lighten the mood a little, but then realizes that her boss is being entirely serious, and her chest tightens in response, reaching down to squeeze one of Olivia's hands in her own. The other woman squeezes back, and they sit there in silence, eyes locked on each other, and Amanda knows that her words are true, that somehow in the space of only a couple of weeks, her boss has indeed become the best friend she's ever had, the most important person in her life, and she can't remember a time when she has felt closer to someone.

The all-consuming panic finally begins to ease its suffocating grip on her and she finds herself smiling back at Olivia now, a sharp spike of hope bursting up through the darkness.


	12. Chapter 12

Amanda is sprinting as fast as she can throughout the wet, slippery New York streets, legs pumping furiously, gun in hand and at the ready, blonde hair slicked back from her face by the misty rain that falls from the dark sky, the wind whipping at her pale cheeks and working up a pink flush of cold. She has been chasing a suspect through the maze of buildings but has lost sight of him, and she peers around the corner cautiously, weapon in the air, spotting the dark shape of the person she is following just up ahead, and is off and running once again.

It feels like they have been playing this cat-and-mouse game for hours now, and she doesn't know where her teammates are, doesn't understand why they don't answer her on the radio, but is very determined to catch this suspect that has somehow managed to continually elude her, no matter how close she gets. The frustration and exhaustion are beginning to take their toll, but she won't give up, resolute in proving that she is where she belongs, that she can do this job and do it well, that she doesn't belong at home but out here on the streets, doing what she was born to do.

The area she is in seems hauntingly familiar now, and she comes to a halt when she reaches the mouth of a tiny alley, heart striking up a quick rhythm, gaze swinging wildly back and forth as she takes in her new surroundings. There is a car parked there, engine running and headlights blazing into her eyes, partially obscuring her vision, and she puts a hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes and squinting into the gloomy haze, confusion spearing her when she sees two indistinct figures standing there, shadowy and blurred, both of them turning toward her as if they have been waiting for her arrival.

Amanda can hear snippets of their conversation, and the fear that has been slowly spreading through her spikes violently as she listens to one mutter to the other about getting the small blonde in the slutty outfit into the backseat so they can have their fun. She wonders if they are talking about her or someone else, and is perplexed as to where her suspect has disappeared to, angry at herself for being distracted. It becomes obvious that they are indeed talking about her, the words "skanky" and "sleazy" and "trampy" peppered throughout the conversation, as they refer to how she looks, what she is wearing, and the confusion is more apparent now as she knows she is dressed for her job, in a sharp pantsuit and blouse and boots, long hair scraped back into a ponytail, and not for a night out on the town.

She suddenly comes to the realization that she is still on a leave of absence, not yet having returned to work, and when she looks down at herself, she sees that the bulletproof vest and gun have been traded for a short black dress and a cigarette, hair loose and messy around her shoulders, and she can feel how drunk she is now, the alcohol winding its way through her system and leaving her wobbly and unsure, both the high and the devastation from having just gambled for the first time in years fresh on her mind, each separate feeling warring for attention, demanding to be dominated. The rain is plastering her long hair to her head and the smoke is dissipating into the air, leaving a lingering acrid scent that mixes in with the muck and refuse of the alley. The two people in front of her are laughing now, rough male voices, but they are still physically unclear; just out-of-focus, cloudy representations of actual human beings.

"Hey, little whore, wanna go for a ride?" one of them sneers, and the other breaks into loud cackles, snickering cruelly as they each take a step toward her.

She takes an unsteady step back, legs trembling in her high heels, hands clenched into fists down at her sides, and she knows she can stop it this time; is too drunk to fight back and take on both of them, but can at least try to get away, try to call for help. When she turns around with the intent of escaping, the relief that pours over her is so great that she almost falls to knees. Olivia is standing there, several feet away, with her arm outstretched and a concerned look on her face.

"Come here, Amanda, it's okay. Come back to me, honey."

"Liv..." She reaches her own arm out toward the older woman, and the image of her boss seems to flicker before her eyes, winking out for a brief second before reappearing again, farther away this time. Her brow wrinkles in confusion and she takes another cautious step forward. "Liv, help me!"

"I'm right here, honey. Come on, it's time to come back." Olivia is smiling encouragingly at her now, holding out her hand for Amanda to reach out and grab ahold of, but when she does, the older woman disappears once again.

"Liv!" she calls out in fear and frustration. "Don't leave me here!"

She hears the engine of the vehicle revving behind her and the raucous, mean laughter of the men, and her eyes are brimming with tears now, lips trembling as she opens them to call out for best friend again, to beg Olivia to save her, but the older woman is gone, leaving an empty, dark street behind in her wake.

"Time to get in the car, little slut," a voice snarls right next to her ear; hot, rancid breath on her neck, and she jumps, feeling a large hand grasping onto her upper arm hard enough to leave bruises.

"Olivia!" she screams in desperation, struggling to get away from the heavy, probing fingers that are now slipping underneath her dress and digging into tender flesh; hurting her, causing her to cry out in pain.

"Amanda, it's okay, sweetheart. You're safe. You need to come back."

She becomes aware of another touch now, one that begins to soothe and ground her, a soft hand smoothing along the bare skin of her back, having slipped beneath the material of her shirt, gentle fingers tracing over the knobs of her spine, and she cracks an eye open, everything looking different now; the rainy, damp alley slowly falling away to be replaced by her warm, comfortable bed, the short black dress traded for the tank top and panties she had gone to sleep in. The drunk feeling still lingers, though, and she is confused for a moment again, before remembering that she is sick; has been fighting off a bad cold for the past several days, but it has now hit her full force, leaving her a shaking mess of feverish limbs, one moment burning hot and the next freezing cold.

She had stripped down to just a thin shirt and underwear for bed since the heat from her fever had been so unbearable the night before, but now she is trembling with cold, her teeth chattering together, and she longs to pull on a warm pair of pajamas but her aching body is begging her to stay buried underneath the covers. It is a true testament to how deep their friendship has become that Olivia has refrained from escaping to the couch and has remained here, enduring sharing the bed with her, after she has spent the past several hours sweating profusely into the sheets and coughing loudly enough to wake the dead, and is now moaning her way through a nightmare while her body shakes so vigorously with cold that the bed is actually moving back and forth with the force of her movements.

"Amanda, it's okay," a soft voice, gravelly with sleep, is murmuring. "Come back to me, honey."

"Why did you leave me there, Liv?" she whispers accusingly, the dream world still clinging stubbornly onto her as she tries to fight her way back from the dark, murky depths of her nightmare and into reality.

"I didn't leave you anywhere, sweetheart," Olivia assures her, hand still rubbing across her back and over her sides in a wide circular motion, the skin-to-skin contact slowly beginning to have the desired effect. "I would never do that."

Amanda concentrates on the feel of the other woman's palm on her bare skin, warm fingers smoothing over the goosebumps that have risen, feeling her racing heart begin to slow and her twitching body begin to still. She is lying at the edge of the bed, turned away from the older woman, head having slipped off the pillow while she has slept and resting at an awkward angle against the mattress, tired gaze fixed on the wall in front of her. A sudden shiver runs through her, and she is not sure if it is an aftereffect of the dream or a consequence of being so ill, and she feels Olivia's hand slide to a stop against her ribs.

"Amanda, come here," her boss says softly, hand moving again and fingernails scratching gently against her back, trying to get her attention.

There is no hesitation whatsoever as she immediately rolls over into Olivia's open arms, hungry for comfort and intent on soaking it all in, the older woman enfolding her into her warm embrace and tucking the blankets up around their shoulders. She is still very shaken from her nightmare and wills herself to remain in the present and not get sucked back down into that dark, desolate world that resides deep inside her mind; instead nestling herself deeper into Olivia's arms, burying her head against the other woman's shoulder, and closing her eyes as she feels a tender hand stroking through her hair and softly kneading the muscles at the back of her neck.

It has been two weeks since Olivia has come to stay with her, and Amanda has just ended her third week of absence from work. They have both been working hard to develop a new routine for the past several days, on the advice of Dr. Lindstrom; Amanda trying to get used to her new normal, now that she has been away from the precinct for quite some time and still has no idea when she will be returning. The importance of a daily routine has been instrumental in her attempts to begin some sort of recovery, and Amanda has struggled with her daily activities, finding it difficult but necessary to stick to a strict schedule, as she knows it will help stop her from slipping backwards again. She has been stunned at how far her life has unraveled in the wake of her gambling relapse and assault, and just how hard it is to carry out and complete even the simplest of daily activities, while dealing with the constant anxiety and flashbacks and nightmares.

She and Olivia start each day with breakfast together at the kitchen table, Amanda preparing the meal while Olivia gets ready for work. After the older woman leaves for the precinct, she gets changed into her workout clothes and goes for a long run in the park before returning home and showering and dressing for the day. If Olivia isn't being completely run off her feet by the craziness of her job and actually has some down time, she returns to the apartment so she and Amanda can have lunch together, but most days they eat separately, chatting on the phone while Olivia quickly gulps down a sandwich or a salad and Amanda picks at whatever unappetizing meal she has decided to fix for herself. The afternoons are taken up with either therapy appointments, Gamblers Anonymous meetings, errands, or sometimes all three. Amanda tries to have dinner on the table by the time Olivia arrives home in the evenings, and they spend the hours before bed snuggled up on the couch, watching movies or reading or just chatting about anything and everything.

The days don't always go as planned, though, and more often than not, Amanda will find herself in the midst of a sudden flashback or anxiety attack right in the middle of a normal activity, and Olivia has arrived home from work a few times to find Amanda sobbing uncontrollably on the couch or in her bed, and on one particularly bad occasion, curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor. She is still finding it quite challenging to make it through an entire day, and the only time she feels truly content is when she and Olivia are home together in the evenings, sharing a meal and a funny movie and some good conversation. Her stomach is always tied up in knots in the mornings, when she knows her boss will have to leave her to her own devices for the day, and she still can't decide which is worse; being home alone in the apartment, the shadows in the corners seeming to mock her, the dark outline of a man in her peripheral vision; or being out and about for the whole day, bumping into strange men on the street and keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead as she strides determinedly past any gambling establishments.

Despite the extreme challenges and setbacks that she has been dealing with, Amanda is proud of herself for beginning to take cautious baby steps on the road to recovery. She has been able to hold onto her sobriety thus far; and after her initial reluctance to start seeing Dr. Lindstrom, she finds that she doesn't mind the appointments so much now, and that the therapy is actually helping her get a handle on the massive amount of panic that resides inside of her, as well as the multitude of flashbacks. Between the coping strategies that she has been taught by her doctor, and Olivia's childhood ring that she is borrowing as her safety object for the time being, she has been able to create some semblance of control when she feels the anxiety begin to overtake her, which is still quite often.

She finds herself holding onto the older woman's ring multiple times throughout her days, not only when she is in the midst of an attack, but whenever she misses her or is thinking about her, which seems to be almost constantly. The tiny silver ring has been squeezed and rubbed and held so many times since it was gifted to her that she is sometimes convinced she is going to wear right through the metal with her insatiable need to keep it within her grasp, turning it around over and over again in her hands, desperate for something to comfort her when Olivia is not there, and glad to have a little piece of the older woman with her at all times.

Amanda still has a long way to go, as the nightmares are still quite frequent, occurring almost every night, although she has managed to stop physically harming Olivia while she sleeps. Her appetite just isn't there anymore, and one of the biggest chores of all is working up some enthusiasm about the meals Olivia cooks for her and choking down food that seems to have lost its taste completely. When the older woman isn't there to monitor her activities, she finds it too easy to just skip eating altogether, and actually forgets that she is supposed to be consuming some form of food several times throughout the day. Her weight has dropped dramatically over the past several weeks, and she no longer owns even one article of clothing that fits the way it was meant to.

"You doing okay there, honey?" Olivia asks softly, fingers still threading through her long hair, gently working out the knots that have formed while she has been tossing and turning in fragmented slumber. "Are you here with me now?"

"I'm here with you," Amanda whispers, body still quaking from time to time with the chills that have overtaken her, throat and head aching, but that familiar feeling of contentment washing over her, that feeling of safety and security, and that other feeling she can never quite seem to put a finger on, can't quite seem to identify, whenever she is in Olivia's embrace or just in her presence. There is something about that other feeling that begs to be pushed down and ignored and not looked upon too closely, so she buries it inside her mind along with everything else that she tries not to think about too often, and snuggles impossibly closer into the older woman, Olivia's arms tightening around her in response.

"How bad was it this time?" Olivia murmurs in concern. "It sounded like it was bad."

"Yeah, it was pretty bad," Amanda confirms in a low voice, closing her eyes again as the older woman trails a finger over her cheekbone.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she answers quietly, shaking her head as the lingering images in her brain demand to be brought to attention once more, and she wills them away, reminding herself yet again that she is at home and safe in the arms of her best friend. "I just want you to hold me."

"Well, that I can do," Olivia replies softly, and Amanda lets out a small sigh as she feels a gentle kiss being pressed to the crown of her head.

She is so grateful for the older woman's continual presence in her home and in her life, that she finds it difficult to put the feeling into words, and doesn't often voice her thanks for all that Olivia has given up in her own life to help Amanda on her road to recovery. She is afraid to dwell on it, too scared to bring it up, the fact that her boss is still here with her two weeks after she had arrived and that the older woman has shockingly not brought it up in conversation; secretly hoping that if it is never mentioned, than Olivia will never leave. She is very aware of her dependence and attachment to the older woman, and it is something that Dr. Lindstrom has tried to discuss several times in her therapy appointments, but that has been the one thing she has been resolute in not talking about, unable to examine the friendship she shares with her boss, a relationship that has somehow become the most intimate one of her life.

Olivia is the only person on the planet that she trusts completely and is now entirely comfortable around, no matter what the situation. She still has trouble allowing herself to be touched by anyone else, especially someone of the male gender, but Olivia's touch is different; it is soothing and comforting and completely non-threatening, something she craves and will readily seek out on a regular basis, and it does not even cross her mind to be embarrassed or uncomfortable about lying in bed in the other woman's arms in her underwear. The thought of engaging in skin-to-skin contact with anyone else to soothe her back to reality after a nightmare or panic attack is enough to induce vomiting, but again, it is not an issue with Olivia, and sometimes it is the only thing that is able to break through the darkness and bring her back from the brink. She can't remember a time in her life where she has had this kind of close, effortless relationship with someone, and it is the one thing she cherishes above all else.

Amanda feels a sudden pressure building up inside her nose, and before she can stop herself, before she has time to move away or cover her mouth, she is sneezing so hard into the older woman's chest, that the bed rattles violently with the force of it.

"Wow, thank you for that," Olivia mutters dryly, poking her gently in the side in what Amanda assumes to be a chastising gesture.

She chuckles lightly and then winces as the action causes more pain in her inflamed throat. "Sorry, Liv. I know it's not a good time for you to get sick, especially since you're short staffed right now."

"I'll be fine," her boss relies with a sigh, a hand sliding up to feel Amanda's forehead. "How is your cold doing? Feeling pretty rough today?"

"I feel like I've been hit by a truck," Amanda answers pitifully, eyes remaining closed as the older woman's fingers softly massage her head.

"You're burning up, honey," Olivia says in concern. "I'm going to find some medication to reduce your fever and then I'll make you something for breakfast. What would you like to eat?"

"Nothing," Amanda mutters, her stomach turning over at the thought of consuming food of any kind. She wishes her appetite would make a return appearance and is again surprised that this is one of the toughest aspects of her recovery; feeling guilt pierce through her when she thinks of Olivia trying to entice her to eat by learning what all her favorite foods are and cooking her delicious meals whenever she actually has any free time. But Amanda wants no part of it, instead choosing to nibble and graze on various items throughout the day whenever it actually crosses her mind to eat, giving her just enough energy to keep her on her feet. She notices that her ribs and shoulder blades are now standing out prominently whenever she is naked in front of a mirror, and she has started avoiding her own reflection, not enjoying being confronted by the sight of the pale, skinny, haunted woman staring back at her.

"Amanda, you need to eat," Olivia admonishes lightly. "This is why you're sick, honey. Your body is not getting the nutrients it needs and you're still not sleeping properly. You're tired and rundown, and you weren't able to fight off this cold that has been coming on for days now."

"I'll eat later," she mumbles, and hears the older woman sigh again.

"Honey, you are literally disappearing in my arms," Olivia says softly. "I think I can feel each and every one of your ribs. You feel so fragile, like you're about to break."

"My throat hurts too much to eat," Amanda whispers, the guilt still swamping her, and her fingers close around the older woman's arm, squeezing gently. "And I'm not going to break, Liv." She pauses briefly. "You're holding me together."

There is a moment of silence before Amanda feels the other woman's arms tighten around her once again, Olivia's cheek resting against her bent head. "You give me too much credit, sweetheart," her boss murmurs, voice sounding slightly choked with emotion now. "You're holding yourself together, Amanda. You're doing all the hard work to get yourself better, and I'm just here to help out from time to time."

Amanda snorts lightly under her breath and curls in closer to Olivia, craning her neck and looking up at her so their gazes lock, and rests one hand against the older woman's cheek. "Now you're the one not giving yourself enough credit, Liv," she replies softly. "If it wasn't for you, I would probably be wandering the streets drunk, with no money because I had gambled it all away, having panic attack after panic attack, and thinking every guy I passed on the sidewalk was going to jump out and attack me."

Olivia looks like she is about to protest, to argue again that Amanda has done everything herself, so she quickly presses a finger to the other woman's lips, and gives her a slight smile. "I'm trying to say thank you, Olivia. I know I don't say it nearly enough, but from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much."

Her heart clenches in her chest when she sees the hint of tears in her boss' eyes, and she is suddenly blinking hard to keep her own emotions at bay, feeling a swell of gratitude for this friendship that means more to her than anything else, still not understanding what she has done to deserve someone like this in her life. "I don't know what I would do without you, Liv," she admits quietly, and knows the words to be true.

A tears slips down Olivia's cheek and Amanda reaches a hand up to swipe it away with the pad of her thumb. "I don't know what I would do without you either, honey," the older woman whispers, and Amanda raises her eyebrows in surprise, completely caught off guard by this admission.

For a moment she is at a loss for words, before speaking again, a chuckle of disbelief escaping her mouth. "You'd probably be living a normal, stress-free life, without me in it," she laughs quietly. "Just think of it, Liv. A full night's sleep with no one waking up screaming from night terrors, no one trying to attack you in your sleep, no one to talk down from panic attacks and flashbacks. You could be living such a normal life."

Olivia gazes down at her in silence for a moment, before her lip turns up at the corner and she is stroking the back of her hand along Amanda's cheekbone. "Normal is overrated, Amanda, you know that? Normal is boring."

They are smiling at one another now, and Amanda feels a warmth blooming inside her chest, a loosening of the morning's previous darkness. "Liv, I think you could use a little boring in your life," she snickers. "I'm such a handful."

"Nonsense," Olivia responds, reaching out to ruffle the mess of blonde hair on her head. "You keep me on my toes, Amanda, but it's nothing that I can't handle. I'm glad that I'm here with you."

She stares at her boss for a long moment, blue eyes locked onto brown, and her throat feels constricted, once again overcome with emotion at what this relationship means to her, and decides that she is going to try to choke down some food if that is what will make Olivia happy. She flashes the other woman a grin, determined not to dissolve into tears, and to try to put her strong feelings on the back burner for now. "What's for breakfast, Liv?"

xxx

They spend the majority of the day out on the couch together, Amanda feeling more and more miserable as the hours go on, her bad cold firmly taking hold now, and she is curled up under a blanket at Olivia's side, head resting against her shoulder, as the older woman works away at her laptop on the coffee table, muttering to herself from time to time as she types. The TV is playing at a low volume in the background, and there is an autumn rain lashing the apartment windows, lending a gloomy, dim look to the room and making Amanda's eyelids droop sleepily from time to time.

When she is able to keep her eyes open, she finds them fixed on the screen in front of her, gaze roaming over the words, curious and interested in what Olivia is doing. It appears to be something for work, some kind of research, possibly having to do with one of the cases she is no longer involved in, and her gaze sharpens as she reads, that acute sense of loss stabbing into her, as it does from time to time when she remembers how much she misses her job, the victims they try their best to help, and Fin and Carisi, her brothers in blue.

"Amanda, I know you're not asleep," Olivia says suddenly, tone sharp, and she jumps, startled. "Stop reading what's on my laptop. A break from work means a _full_ break, including all aspects of any cases we're working on."

She is aware of the older woman inching bit by bit away from her on the couch now, like she is trying to escape her presence, and she sits up straight, fixing her boss with a hurt look. "Liv, stop trying to get away from me," she complains, feeling both annoyance and amusement at the other woman's actions.

"Well, stop being such a little snoop," Olivia retorts. "I'm really disappointed in your immaturity, Amanda," she adds, but then follows up her comment by reaching out to cover Amanda's eyes with her hand, so she can no longer see the screen.

She swats the older woman's hand away from her face, laughing now. "Oh, you're one to talk, Liv. Okay, I'll try to be more mature," she adds lightly, and responds by sprawling across the couch and plunking her head right down into Olivia's lap, making it practically impossible for the older woman to continue typing, and she smiles when she hears the sigh from above her.

"Well it's going to be a little hard to get any work done with you lying in my lap like a big baby," Olivia mutters, but Amanda hears the smirk in her tone and feels the other woman's fingers stroking through her hair a moment later.

"That's the point, Liv," she says, tone serious now. "You need to take a break. I'm not the only one who's rundown. You're running yourself ragged trying to do everything. You're going to get sick too."

"Yeah, because you've been coughing and sneezing all over me," Olivia replies wryly.

"No, because you work too hard," Amanda corrects, rolling her eyes. "It's the weekend. Just take a break for a bit and relax. You can't get sick when you're already short staffed."

"Well, I think it's too late for that," Olivia murmurs. "I've been feeling like I'm coming down with something all day."

"Oh," Amanda says, wincing slightly. "Sorry about that, Liv."

Olivia doesn't answer, just grumbles something under her breath that Amanda can't quite hear, but it sounds like she is complaining, and the older woman has a disgruntled look on her face that amuses her; that she finds cute and endearing, and she has the urge to tease again, to poke some fun, because she feels so awful and needs something to take her mind off of it. "Are you actually pouting, Liv?" she teases lightly, smirking up at her boss from her position on her lap. "You look like such a big grouch from this angle."

Olivia glares down at her and Amanda continues to regard her with an innocent smile. "Maybe you should just stop talking now, Amanda. Your voice is getting on my nerves," the older woman remarks, and Amanda lets out a snort of laughter and arches a challenging eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah? What are you going to do if I don't?"

Olivia picks up a pillow from the corner of the couch and places it over her face, just leaving it there like that, balanced on Amanda's cheekbones, and sits back against the cushions, arms crossed over her chest and lower lip slightly protruding.

This only makes Amanda laugh harder, the action causing her inflamed throat to hurt even more. "Wow, good comeback there, Liv," she snickers, removing the pillow from her face and smacking it lightly into Olivia's nose, delighted when the older woman sticks her tongue out at her in response.

She feels privileged that she has been getting brief glimpses into the lighter side of her boss' personality from time to time, the uncharacteristic childishness; surprised and pleased that Olivia has a playful, silly side, and that she chooses to share it with her once in awhile, as Amanda is well aware that the older woman doesn't show this facet of her personality to many people. It is a relief to be able to tease and joke around with Olivia, especially when everything begins to weigh too heavily on her; when she takes stock of where she is in her recovery, and realizes that although she has started to make some significant strides, she still has such a long way to go. The combination of the nightmares and anxiety and the seemingly never ending urge to gamble still makes it feel as if she has the weight of the world resting upon her shoulders, and the opportunity to engage in some goofy behavior is always a nice and much-needed break. She has missed this aspect of her own personality, has missed the lighthearted moments that she had shared on a regular basis with Fin and Carisi, before everything had come crashing down and she no longer recognized the person she had become.

Amanda feels a sudden wave of remorse as she gazes up at the taller woman, seeing the fatigue in Olivia's expression, the dark shadows beneath her eyes, and she wraps an arm around her waist, giving her a squeeze. "Sorry, Liv, I'll stop being a brat," she chuckles. "I really didn't mean to get you sick. Just put the laptop away for a little while, okay? Relax with me and watch a movie. The work can wait."

They spend the next several hours on the couch, curled up together beneath the blanket, alternately dozing and flipping through the TV channels, the rain becoming harder against the windows. Olivia has been flagging throughout the day and it is now quite obvious that she is coming down with same thing as Amanda, but is trying to power through, cooking a dinner that they both pick at, and leaning wearily against Amanda's shoulder as they watch a movie afterwards. By the time they go to bed that night, the older woman has started coughing profusely, and her cheeks are flushed with fever, eyes bloodshot and watery, and Amanda takes her boss into her arms under the covers, again feeling that wave of guilt for passing on her germs by being so clingy and needy, and trying to soothe the other woman as they fall asleep.

xxx

When they wake up on Sunday morning, Olivia appears to be just as sick as Amanda is now, and the two of them seem to be competing over who has the higher fever. Amanda figures the rest of the weekend is going to be absolutely terrible with both of them being so ill and unable to do much, but the day ends up being strangely magical.

She feels drunk and lightheaded and thinks their fevers might actually be causing them to lose their minds, as everything seems to be hysterically funny and cause for many a prolonged laughing fit. Most of the time she has no idea what they are even laughing about, and her throat is roaring with pain, but she can't seem to stop, the laughter feeling so good and joyous amidst all the upheaval of her life lately.

They drag their poor bodies back out to the couch and plant themselves there for the entire day, sprawled together in a tangle of limbs, the living room resembling a hospital suite, everything they might need lined up on the coffee table in front of them so they don't have to move. There are fever reducers, painkillers, cough drops, tissues, a thermometer, and a stack of old entertainment magazines, and Amanda makes sure to hide Olivia's laptop so the older woman won't be tempted to work while she is so ill. They keep the blinds drawn and the lights off, the apartment dark and cozy, the rain continuing to fall as hard as it had the day before, and Amanda feels like they are in their own little world up here, cocooned together beneath the same blanket, occasionally trying to tug it out of each other's grasp so no parts of their bodies are exposed to the chilly air, and it doesn't seem to occur to either one of them to get up and retrieve another blanket; just choosing to snuggle even closer than they already were. The same Jim Carey movie marathon from a couple of weeks before is playing once again, and they laugh just as heartily as they had the first time around, enjoying the silly antics taking place on screen.

They have soup for every meal and popsicles in between to soothe their sore throats, and every single meal and snack is cause for a playful argument, neither one of them wanting to leave the warmth and comfort of the couch, so they flip a coin to see who will have to be the one to leave their snug little nest and prepare the food. Amanda loses every single coin toss, and by the time the dinner hour rolls around, she just shakes her head and drags herself off the couch and into the kitchen before Olivia can even throw the quarter up into the air, rolling her eyes at the older woman's smug chuckles.

She gets yet another can of soup ready and glances back out into the living room when she hears Olivia giggle at something on the TV, her heart giving a happy little tug at the jovial sound, and she smiles softly as she watches the other woman for a moment, finding herself overcome once again by this friendship that has sprung up out of the worst of circumstances. Her hand is in the pocket of her pajama pants, twirling Olivia's ring around in her fingers, her safety object always within reach, even when she is calm and content, and she is consumed by a feeling that has been enveloping her more and more lately; that feeling of belonging, that she is no longer alone. It is quite an odd thing to feel so physically wretched but so emotionally fulfilled at the same time, and she finds herself wishing for a slow recovery for the both of them, wanting more time at home with Olivia, away from the distractions of work and meetings and therapy appointments; just the two of them sharing in some much-needed lighthearted moments and enjoying their time together.

"Hey, Amanda, can you hurry up with my dinner?" Olivia teases, turning her head away from the TV, an eyebrow quirking up when she spots Amanda hovering there in the shadows. "Are you actually getting the meal ready or are you just creeping around in the corner, spying on me?"

Amanda bites the corner of her lip, a blush spreading across her cheeks, and tries to fight the smile that is tugging at her mouth. "I'm not spying, Liv," she chuckles lightly. "I'm just appreciating the fact that you're still here with me, okay? Just let me have my moment."

Olivia smiles back at her, dark eyes crinkling up at the corners. "Amanda, I'm going to be here for as long as you need me, alright? I'm not going anywhere, honey."

"Alright," Amanda whispers back, heart feeling full once again as they gaze at each other in silence, and the quiet, intimate setting is suddenly interrupted by the shrill ringing of Olivia's cell phone.

"Oh no, I hope that's not work," the older woman mutters, leaning over to retrieve the phone from the coffee table, a frown tugging at her features as she looks down at the screen, and there is a noticeable hesitation in her posture now.

"Who is it?" Amanda asks curiously, feeling her own frown tugging at her forehead as she watches her boss' movements. "Is it work?"

"No..." Olivia leans back against the couch cushions briefly, a sigh escaping her lips, before her thumb swipes against the screen and she lifts the phone to her ear. "It's Tucker."

Amanda is quite shocked and puzzled, and feels a sharp stab of pain in her chest at this unexpected intrusion into their private day; her frown becoming deeper as Olivia gets off the couch and turns away from her, speaking quietly, the words drowned out by the sound of the TV, and she jumps slightly as the microwave dings behind her, indicating that the soup is ready. She ignores their meal, and remains planted where she is, feet seemingly glued to the floor now, and her teeth are digging hard into her bottom lip, a habit that she has been trying to break over the past couple of weeks, as she listens to Olivia speaking softly. She feels oddly close to tears all of a sudden, and doesn't understand this reaction, but it occurs to her, as it has multiples times over the past few weeks, that perhaps she is letting herself get too attached, too comfortable with her new way of life.

The older woman has not mentioned Tucker even once since their dinner at the Italian restaurant, and Amanda has not brought it up, despite her extreme curiosity with the situation, knowing how hurt Olivia had been by the relationship and wanting to make sure her boss was okay but not wanting to pressure her to talk. As the days have dragged on and she has become more consumed with her recovery and the endless appointments and meetings, Tucker has begun to fade from her mind, and she had just assumed that he was fading from Olivia's too; that the other woman was getting over whatever had happened between them, and moving on with her life, that clinging loneliness disappearing from Olivia's soul as rapidly as it had disappeared from her own since the older woman had started living with her, the companionship they now share filling their days and lending a small amount of light to the darkness.

Amanda stands there frozen in the doorway to the living room, Olivia's childhood ring clutched in one hand, a strange emptiness beginning to spread through her as she observes the other woman on the phone, and just like that, she feels like she has lost something.


	13. Chapter 13

Amanda stands at the doorway to the living room with her arms crossed over her chest, watching Olivia converse on the phone with Tucker for another moment, before turning away and retreating to the kitchen, deciding to tend to their ignored dinner. She tucks the ring back into her pocket and then pulls on a pair of oven mitts, opening the microwave door a little more roughly than she intends before grasping onto the bowl of soup and preparing to lift it out onto the counter.

She hears Olivia's tinkling laugh over the sound of the TV, and is momentarily distracted from her task, wondering what she and Tucker could possibly be finding so amusing, and the bowl slips from her hands and crashes to the floor with a loud bang. The soup splatters everywhere, down her body and across the tiles, the burning hot liquid searing through her pajamas and onto the skin of her stomach and thighs, a few droplets splashing across her hand, and she yelps in pain, immediately whirling toward the sink and turning on the water, thrusting her hand beneath the soothing cool spray.

"Amanda! What happened? Are you okay?"

Olivia has rushed into the kitchen and is standing behind her now, an arm wrapped around her back, reaching into the sink to place a hand over her own. Amanda's teeth are digging into her lower lip, biting down hard, trying to keep the tears at bay, the sharp physical pain mixing with the strange emotional turmoil she now finds herself in, and she is aware of the older woman trying to get her to turn around so she can see her face, but she remains where she is, feet planted firmly onto the floor so they don't have to make eye contact.

"Amanda, what happened?" Olivia repeats, a faint note of alarm in her tone, hand rubbing up and down her back. "Did you burn yourself? Are you alright?" There is a brief pause when Amanda still doesn't answer or meet her gaze. "Honey, can you look at me, please?"

She blinks rapidly, trying to get the tears to dissipate, before meeting Olivia's concerned dark gaze, and is aware of the thin line of blood trickling down her chin now, the pain from her lip combining with the white hot burning sensation on her hand, and on her stomach and thighs, her head and throat still aching due to the bad cold and fever, and the physical misery she is in suddenly seems overwhelming and all-encompassing.

"Oh, sweetheart, what did you do?" Olivia is swiping a thumb over the blood staining her skin and then taking her hand into both of her own, lifting it up so she can see the angry red mark seared into the pale flesh.

"It was an accident," Amanda mumbles, as the other woman leads her over to a chair, carefully sidestepping them around the splatter of soup, and gently pushes her down into it, before soaking a paper towel in cold water and placing it against the wound on her hand.

Olivia is kneeling down on the floor in front of her now, hands resting lightly on her knees, a frown fixed on the taller woman's face, as her gaze roams over Amanda's pajamas, the material sticking to her body in various wet patches. She is wincing as she sits there, the small burn marks feeling extremely painful, and she hunches over, closing her eyes and gasping out a short breath.

"Oh, Amanda, you're really hurt," Olivia says softly, fingers gently grazing the soaked patch on one of her thighs.

"I'm fine," she grits out through clenched teeth, trying to breathe through the pain as she pushes Olivia's hand away from her, incredulous that such minuscule injuries can hurt this much. "Don't worry about it."

"Honey, let me help you," the older woman says, sitting back on her heels and gazing up at Amanda with a somewhat perplexed expression on her face now, eyebrows pulling together in a slight frown.

"I don't need any help, Liv," Amanda replies, with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I'll be fine, okay? Sorry I interrupted your conversation."

"It's fine," Olivia answers, frown becoming deeper as she continues to look up at her. "My throat hurts too much to talk for long anyway."

"What were you laughing about?" she asks, before she can stop herself.

Olivia rolls her eyes, a slight smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. "Tucker was telling me a joke to cheer me up because I'm sick. He actually has a sense of humor, if you can believe that." She chuckles. "Or he _thinks_ he does, anyway."

Amanda stares at her in silence for a moment, feeling an ache spreading through her chest, and the silly, fun mood of the day seems to have evaporated entirely now. She finds herself on the verge of tears once again, and her deep, varying emotions are confusing her, not understanding exactly what her problem is and afraid to look too closely. That vague awareness is still there; that this attachment she has to her boss is unhealthy, that this insatiable need to be so close to Olivia at all times is spinning out of control, and that maybe it is finally time to take a giant step back.

"Amanda, what's going on?" the older woman asks softly, hands on her knees once again, thumbs stroking back and forth soothingly. "Are you alright?"

She shrugs and looks away, willing the tears to disappear. "Sure, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know; you tell me," Olivia says quietly.

"I can't tell you what I don't know," Amanda mutters, blue eyes fixed firmly on the kitchen table beside her, not meeting the other woman's intense gaze.

"Yes, I seem to recall you mentioning that before," her boss replies, the tone of her voice unreadable now. "Honey, please talk to me. You look like you're about to start crying."

"I'm not crying," Amanda snaps back, but then realizes what a bizarre statement this is to make, as there is now a tear rolling down one of her cheeks. She wipes an impatient arm across her face and her legs twitch with the sudden need to flee the room.

"Is it the pain or something else?" Olivia asks, the grip on her knees becoming somewhat firmer now, as if she knows Amanda is intending to escape the situation, and her boss reaches up toward her face, Amanda quickly turning her head to the side before the other woman can wipe away the next tear that is making a wet trail down her cheek. "Can you talk to me, please? What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"You mean besides the burn marks all over my body?" Amanda chokes out, swallowing hard against the torrent of sobs that are now struggling to break free from her throat.

"Okay, let's go into the bathroom, so I can help you out," Olivia replies softly, getting to her feet and reaching out a hand for Amanda to grab ahold of. "I can take a look at them and get them bandaged up for you."

She sits there, making no move at all to take the older woman's hand or get to her feet, gaze fixed on the floor now, feeling a wave guilt overcome her for the immature way she is acting, but it feels as if all of the pent up emotions are going to come bursting out of her if she opens her mouth or makes any kind of move. Amanda is quite disturbed by the intense feelings coursing their way through her system, feelings that have been pushed to the side until several minutes ago. She is upset and uncomprehending of the jealousy and need that stab into her, and is suddenly aware of how bad an idea it was to have Olivia stay at her place full time.

There is an immense amount of shame mixing in with the other feelings now, and she is angry that she has let someone else get so close to her, has let her life become so intrinsically intertwined and connected with another person's, as this is not her usual style at all; Amanda had not been such a needy, clingy mess until her life had spun so rapidly out of control, leaving her grasping desperately at anything to pull her back up out of the black hole she had fallen into. She misses the strong, independent, confident woman she used to be, and wonders if that woman is ever coming back, if she is just in hiding for a little while or if she has disappeared altogether.

She tries to get ahold of all of the emotions crashing down upon her, but everything suddenly seems like too much to handle; Olivia, the assault, the gambling, the anxiety, the nightmares, the fact that they still haven't caught the man who had turned her life upside down and more than likely never will, and she struggles to maintain control of herself, to remember Dr. Lindstrom's advice for what to do when her life seems too overwhelming, but her mind is so full of everything else, that she is drawing a complete blank.

"Amanda," Olivia says softly, and she realizes that the older woman is kneeling back down again and has a hand on her cheek now, gently turning her head so that their gazes are fixed on each other. "Tell me what's going on. Right now." Her boss' voice is still quiet, but there is a hint of steel underneath, that warning to do as she is told and not to argue, and she knows it is because Olivia is extremely worried and trying not to show it.

"I'm just...confused," she whispers, her heart tearing a little at the concerned, empathetic expression on Olivia's face.

"About what, honey?"

"A lot of things."

"Okay..." Olivia trails off, her thumb stroking back and forth along Amanda's cheekbone now, urging her to continue speaking.

"What did Tucker want?" she whispers, her heart striking up a quick rhythm in her chest.

Olivia's brow furrows as they continue to regard each other and her thumb slides to a stop. "He just called to say hello."

"But I thought you broke up," Amanda replies in confusion.

"We did."

"So..."

"So, what?"

"So, I don't get it," Amanda answers.

"There's nothing to get," Olivia says firmly, pulling away and sitting back on her heels now. "We still chat once in awhile, just to see how the other is doing. We're still friends who are trying to get along, as we have to work with each other from time to time, and it's easier if things are good between us." There is a slight pause. "We're mature adults who are trying to make the best of a situation that didn't turn out so well," Olivia continues. The older woman is staring at her very intently now, and Amanda feels a hot blush creeping across her cheeks. "Why do you keep asking about things that are none of your business?"

Amanda feels another intense spike of anger, the blush deepening until it seems like her entire face is on fire, but this time the anger is not directed at herself. She is reminded of the conversation in her bedroom a couple of weeks before, when Olivia had been less than forthcoming about her personal life, even though Amanda's has been on full display since a week after the assault had occurred. "None of my business? My entire life is your business, Olivia, but again, I am not even allowed to ask one question about yours."

"I'm just having trouble understanding why you care so much about this _particular_ aspect of my life," Olivia says, one eyebrow arched as she continues to stare hard at Amanda.

"I care because I'm worried about you," Amanda shoots back. "Why is it so weird for one best friend to be worried about another?"

Olivia's gaze softens a little at this, and her tone is somewhat subdued when she speaks again. "Because I don't think your concern for me is the reason why you're asking."

There is dead silence for a moment as their gazes remain locked on one another. Amanda is in extreme discomfort now, both physically and emotionally; that urge to flee the room stronger than ever, and Olivia puts a firm hand on her knee again, as if the older woman knows exactly what she is thinking and is trying to stop her movements.

"Well, what's the reason then?" Amanda whispers, suddenly fearful of the answer and not sure why.

"You tell me," Olivia replies quietly. "And don't say you can't tell me what you don't know." There is a slight pause, pregnant with waiting. "I think you _do_ know, Amanda."

"I _don't_ ," she insists, her eyes bright with unshed tears, and she feels the older woman squeezing her knee gently.

"Then can you tell me why this entire day seems to have gone to hell because of one very short phone call?" she asks softly. "Amanda, what happened? I've never had such a fun sick day in my entire life. I didn't know it was _possible_ to have this much fun while being so ill, but in the space of just a few minutes, everything seems to have changed."

"I'm in a lot of pain," Amanda murmurs, gaze wandering down to the nasty burn mark on her hand. "I spilled hot soup all over myself. That's what changed."

Olivia sighs deeply, taking Amanda's hand into both of her own again, fingers stroking lightly against her inflamed skin. "Then let me help you, honey."

"I'm fine," she insists again, pulling away from the other woman's touch and staggering to her feet. "I'm going to go take a cool shower. Hopefully it'll make the rest of the burns start to feel a bit better. Then I'll put some cream on them and get them bandaged up."

"Amanda, please let me help you-" Olivia starts to repeat, but Amanda holds up a shaky hand as she makes her way slowly out of the kitchen.

"I can help myself, Liv."

She walks into the bathroom and shuts the door quietly behind her, leaning back against it for moment, closing her eyes and releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding. The wounds on her stomach and thighs are throbbing painfully, and she carefully removes Olivia's ring from her pocket, setting it on the counter before shedding the soup-splatted pajamas, discarding them on the floor, and standing naked in front of the mirror to take stock of her injuries. There are small flaming red marks littering her torso and her lower lip is swollen, a light streak of blood still visible on her chin. Her blonde hair looks dull and lank, laying greasily against her head, and the blush has drained from her face, her normally pale complexion now completely leached of all color, ribs and shoulder blades standing out prominently beneath the florescent lighting. Amanda shakes her head at herself, disgusted with the haunted reflection staring back at her, and she remembers a time in the recent past when she had actually been attractive, and had been able to appreciate her own good looks.

She leans over the tub to turn on the shower, and it occurs to her that this is just one more thing she has lost over the past several weeks, since her extreme urges to gamble had started up again and her life had spiraled out of control after the relapse. The tears that have been threatening to fall spill over down her cheeks now, and she covers her mouth to muffle a sob as she steps carefully into the bathtub, making sure the water isn't too hot, so it will feel good on her burns. Amanda shivers violently as she stands there under the cool spray and she has to fight the urge to turn the tap up to the warmest temperature to make the shuddering stop.

She feels that familiar panic start stirring up inside of her, promising a whirlwind of anxious activity, and she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, leaning her head against the tiles, trying to get a handle on it before it gets out of control again. She practices one of the breathing exercises that Dr. Lindstrom has taught her, but when it doesn't calm down after a few minutes of trying, and those invisible hands are wrapped around her throat again, unseen fingers pressing in and beginning to choke off her air supply, she quickly whips the shower curtain aside and focuses her gaze on the one thing that always helps. Olivia's ring is sitting on the counter, gleaming in the harsh light of the bathroom, and her eyes zero in on it, staring hard, and is very tempted to bring it into the tub with her so she can hold it in her hand while showering, but she refrains.

She keeps her gaze fixed upon the ring for several minutes, and the panic slowly begins to ebb away before it can explode out of control, and Amanda sighs in relief, as this is one less thing to worry about for now. Once the threat of the looming anxiety attack has been dealt with, she feels an overwhelming wave of sadness and loss, her eyes still locked upon the most incredible gift she has ever been given, as she thinks about the ring's owner, Olivia seemingly never far from her thoughts, and just like that, she knows what has to be done.

This bathtub has seen its fair share of drama and tears, and Amanda figures she will just add to it, as she bends over at the waist, hands clenched onto her knees, the thoughts in her head too much to bear now. Even though she has been trying to keep quiet, not wanting to alert Olivia to her distress, a sob rips its way out of her throat and she covers her mouth with her hands, hoping the older woman hasn't heard her. Everything that has happened over the past several weeks is spinning like a whirlwind through her mind now, and she can't seem to get a handle on her thoughts and emotions, crouching down in the bottom of the tub now, another sob spilling from between her lips and echoing loudly in the small space.

A sharp knock sounds at the bathroom door, and Amanda's head snaps up, hands over her mouth again, as if she can take back the sounds that have been pouring from her throat, but it is too late.

"Amanda!" Olivia's voice sounds from the other side of the door, and she realizes that she hadn't thought to lock it.

She doesn't answer, just remains crouched there on the slippery surface of the tub, and she hears the door open slowly, trying to stifle yet another sob, but a whimper makes its way from between her lips before she can stop it.

"Amanda, what's the matter, honey?" Olivia's voice has that faintly alarmed, concerned tone threading through it again, and she winces, gripping onto the sides of her wet hair and giving it a sharp tug, feeling the guilt stab into her again, as she can never seem to stop upsetting her boss who is also very sick and has basically given up her life for her, has done so much more for her in the space of a few weeks than anyone else has done in a lifetime. Despite this, she can't seem to stop herself from speaking her next words, just needing to be left alone.

"Olivia, you're not respecting my privacy," she says, voice so shaky, she doesn't even know if the other woman can hear her properly.

"It's hard to respect your privacy when all I can hear is you crying," Olivia responds gently. "Honey, I have to admit that you're scaring me a little here. You're injured and sick and there's obviously something else going on as well, so I need you to talk to me."

"It's too much," Amanda admits through a strangled sob, and she can hear the older woman take a step closer, can see the outline of her body through the shower curtain now.

"What is, sweetheart?"

"Everything," she chokes out. "I'm so sick of everything. I need a break, Liv. Why can I never have a break?"

"Amanda, I need you to turn off the shower now," Olivia says, tone still very gentle, but slightly more commanding now, as she speaks. "I'm going to pass you a towel and you need to get dried off and come out of there so we can talk."

Amanda is sitting in the bottom of the tub now, thighs pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her shins, crying into her knees, and she doesn't think she can stop.

"Okay, Amanda, I need you to listen to me," Olivia tells her, voice very firm. "You need to turn the water off and come out of there right now, or I'm going to pull the curtain back. I don't want to violate your privacy but you're really worrying me here, and I need to know that you're okay."

Amanda still can't seem to answer as she tries desperately to get control of herself, and she is aware of the older woman hovering right next to the curtain now.

"Honey, I'm just reaching in to turn the shower off," her boss says quietly, that undercurrent of worry very apparent in her tone. "I'm going to open the curtain and bring you a towel."

Amanda keeps her head buried in her knees, eyes tightly closed, concentrating on breathing through the pain and tamping down her strong emotions, and she is simultaneously freezing cold and boiling hot, the fever still burning brightly within her. She hears the water turn off and feels a towel being wrapped gently around her back, another towel rubbing vigorously through her soaking wet hair, and she turns her head to the side, cracking an eye open. Olivia is sitting on the floor beside the tub now, and there is a sharp pull inside her chest as she takes in the older woman's mused brown locks and the cheeks flushed with fever, and she knows her boss should be getting some rest instead of dealing with her seemingly never ending drama and issues once again, especially since it is a work day tomorrow, and she sighs, eyelids drifting shut once more. She feels as if she has hit a wall, has reached the end of her rope, and the urge to give up burns strongly inside of her; the exhaustion from her rigorous schedule of appointments and meetings, always being on alert for any change in her body and brain indicating the start of a panic attack, the man that haunts her nightmares, and the woman who has come to mean more to her than she had ever thought anyone possibly could. And the sobering realization that she has to let her go.

"I'm sorry, Liv," she murmurs, words soft and heartfelt. "I'm sorry I'm putting you through this when you're sick. You should just go lay down and get some rest."

"Amanda, there is no way in hell I'm leaving you alone right now," Olivia replies sternly, and Amanda feels a hand resting atop her drenched head, fingernails scratching gently against her scalp. "And you don't have to apologize. I know how everything can seem really tough and overwhelming all of a sudden, and all of the emotions can be drowning you instantly, dragging you down. And it definitely doesn't help that you're sick and injured." Her eyes are still closed and she feels the other woman's fingertips trailing across her cheek now. "You are burning up, honey. Let's get you out of there and dried off. We can take care of your injuries and get some more medication into you to try to bring your fever down again."

Amanda lets Olivia help her to her feet, the older woman drying her off quickly, and hears the sharp intake of breath when Olivia's eyes travel down her body, taking in the burn marks. Her boss wraps the towel around her, securing it under her arms, before leading her over to sit down on the closed lid of the toilet, Olivia searching through the medicine cabinet above the sink, and pulling a bunch of supplies out to set them down on the counter.

She watches at the older woman kneels down on the floor in front of her and takes both of her hands gently into her own. "Is it okay if I help you?" she asks quietly.

Amanda nods wordlessly, and it is very quiet for the next several minutes as Olivia tends to her wounds, carefully applying the medicated cream and putting the bandages on. The older woman is tender and caring in her gentle ministrations, and Amanda feels no embarrassment whatsoever, just trust and gratitude, when Olivia lifts the towel out of the way to take care of the burns, before smoothing it back into place. She is again overcome with an intense wash of feelings, a longing and need that pierce through her and bring her to tears once more. Amanda doesn't think this is ever going to stop; thinks she has opened the floodgates of emotions and is never going to be able to close them again.

"Sorry, honey, I know it hurts," Olivia says softly, apparently mistaking her tears for physical pain, as she leans away, sitting back on her heels and looking up at her with large dark eyes. "We're all done here. How about we just get tucked into bed and then we can talk for it a bit, okay? You can tell me what's going on in that head of yours." She grasps onto Amanda's uninjured hand and gives it a squeeze. "I'm really worried, sweetheart."

Amanda draws out of her grasp and covers her face with her hands and begins to sob once more. She is aware of Olivia pulling herself up to her knees again and trying to take her hands away from her face, and she slides off the toilet seat, leaning into the other woman, Olivia sitting back down on the floor, her legs tucked up underneath her. Amanda is in her lap now, knees on either side of Olivia's thighs, shins pressing into the cold tiles, and she rests her head against the other woman's shoulder, hot tears spilling onto her sweatshirt.

"It's okay, I've got you," her boss says quietly, and Amanda feels herself being rocked back and forth in the older woman's embrace, one of Olivia's hands smoothing over her back, and the other tangled up in her wet hair.

They sit there on the floor for several minutes, intertwined with each other, Amanda crying softly and Olivia murmuring words of comfort. The staggering amount of loss she feels before even speaking what needs to be said is incredible, and she almost doesn't have the courage to voice what is on her mind, but she knows she needs to go through with it, that she needs to put a stop to what has been happening, her own emotions and behavior frightening her, and she feels her heart rate begin to quicken.

Her head is still resting against the other woman's shoulder, and she turns her face so that her lips are right next to Olivia's ear. "Liv, I think you need to leave," she whispers.

Amanda feels the older woman stiffen momentarily in her embrace, and when Olivia speaks, she sounds slightly taken aback. "You want me to leave?" There is confusion and what sounds like hurt threading through her boss' tone, and her heart aches, fingers clenching slightly against Olivia's arm.

"Not right away," she says softly. "But when you start feeling better, I think it would be for the best."

The sudden silence is deafening now, and she can feel Olivia's heart rate picking up, matching the speed of her own. "I don't understand," the older woman finally says, tone low, a slight tremble detectable beneath her words. "When we were out in the living room, you said that you were having a moment, appreciating that I was still here." There is a brief pause and the shaking of Olivia's voice is more noticeable now. "What changed?"

"Liv..." Amanda trails off for a moment, her throat so tight, it is making it hard to speak, and she swallows around the lump that has formed. "When I told you yesterday that you were holding me together, I meant it. I feel like I can't function without you now, and it's wrong, it's unhealthy. It's something that's been really hard for me to admit, but this isn't right. I'm using you as a crutch, and I can't get better like this. I need to be able to do it on my own." She has to pause now as the tears feel like they're choking her. "And you need to be able to have your own life again. I've taken enough away from you. I think that much is obvious now."

"Honey, if you're talking about Tucker, you didn't ruin anything, you didn't take anything away from me. That is an entirely separate issue, okay?" Olivia says gently, and Amanda thinks she can hear the hint of tears in the other woman's tone now too. "And I do have my own life, sweetheart. I've just been sharing it with you for the past few weeks." There is silence again, and Amanda feels physical pain in her chest when her boss continues speaking. "I like sharing my life with you."

"I like sharing my life with you too," she replies in a hushed tone. "I like it a little too much, Olivia. I think I've gotten too used to having you around." Amanda leans slightly away from the other woman now, her arms looped around the back of Olivia's neck, so they are face to face and eye to eye. "I think the longer you wait to leave, the harder it's going to be." She swallows thickly, the tears still slipping one after the other down her cheeks, and she sees a tear clinging to the bottom of the older woman's eyelashes. "Because I don't want you to leave at all," Amanda admits, words choked now, as they gaze intently at one another. "I want you to stay here permanently, so I think it's best that you go before things get more out of hand, before my attachment to you becomes even stronger."

Olivia is staring at her in silence, the other woman's expression completely unreadable, and Amanda doesn't know how to interpret this sudden quiet; is unsure if her boss agrees with her or not, if Olivia is alarmed with her disclosure, if she is upset about it, or if she feels the same way Amanda does, perhaps also wanting to turn this into a permanent thing. She can't allow herself to travel down that road, though; is resolute in keeping away from that train of thought, and instead reaches up to the counter to grasp onto Olivia's ring with shaking fingers.

The older woman's brow puckers slightly as she holds it out to her in the palm of her hand. "Do you want this back?" Amanda asks, voice trembling, afraid to hear the answer, that she will not be able to hold onto a little piece of Olivia once she is gone.

"Do you still need it?" the other woman asks softly.

Amanda nods, unable to speak now, as Olivia grasps onto her hand and curls her fingers tightly into her palm, the small, cold safety object enveloped in her grasp. "It's yours for as long as you need it," the other woman replies quietly, fingers locked firmly around Amanda's. There is a slight pause as they sit there, hand in hand, still staring at each other intensely. "Is this really what you want, Amanda?" The question is spoken very softly, and she finds herself nodding again, despite her strong desire to do otherwise.

"Okay," Olivia whispers, and Amanda feels her heart shatter at the older woman's next words, even though she knows this is for the best. "If this is what you really want, I'll leave."


	14. Chapter 14

Amanda is laying in bed, curled up beneath the covers, staring blankly at the wall in front of her, unable to sleep. It is somewhere in the wee hours of the morning, and her thoughts are in complete turmoil, her emotions spinning rapidly out of control, and she can't seem to let herself be sucked down into that deep, dreamless oblivion that she so desperately craves; the oblivion she is so hopeful for, but always seems to be just out of reach, something she is constantly striving for but is forever unattainable. There is soft snoring in the bed beside her, a shuffling of restless limbs, and she sighs, deeply regretting the decision she has made, wishing she could take back the words that she had said to Olivia, wanting the older woman to stay with her indefinitely.

She closes her eyes as she feels the weight of another body shifting on the mattress behind her, a soft hand against her back, and tries to fight the tears that are pricking insistently at her eyelids. "Liv, I don't want you to leave," she whispers. "I changed my mind. I shouldn't have said that, okay? I'm sorry."

There is an arm sliding around her waist now, and she grasps at it with grateful, trembling fingers, clutching on tightly. "Can we just forget what I said? Can you please stay?"

The arm tightens around her in response, and she smiles, snuggling in closer. "Is that a yes?"

The grip around her waist is becoming a little uncomfortable now, and she chuckles slightly. "Okay, Liv, I get it, you're going to stay. Relax a little, will you?"

Amanda feels a growing unease as the hold around her becomes more firm, and is actually bordering on painful now, and she struggles to draw in air. "Okay, that's too tight. Stop, please." There is no response once again, and she wrinkles her brow, wriggling around against the arm holding her in place, trying to escape. "Liv, what are you doing? It's too tight. Please, I can't breathe."

The grip around her torso becomes impossibly tighter, and there is actual pain now, the ability to breathe slowly being crushed from her, and she struggles frantically against the strong arm pinning her to the bed. "Ouch!" she gasps out, her fingernails now digging sharply into the hands that are clutching so tightly around her waist. "Olivia, stop! You're hurting me!"

Her heartbeat seems to cease all movement as she simultaneously becomes aware of two things: that the older woman would never, ever harm her in any way, would never cause her pain, especially physically; and that Olivia has been gone for a few day now. A cold sweat breaks out across her forehead with this stark realization, and she scrambles from the bed, standing there on shaking legs, leaning over with palms planted flat on the mattress, fingers coiled into the disheveled sheets as her gaze roams wildly around the dark room, gasping out quick, panting breaths.

From what she can see in the inky blackness, the bedroom appears empty and there is no one else curled up under the covers beside her, but the hair on the back of her neck is standing on end and her heart has resumed its rapid beat, picking up to an uncomfortable pace. A floorboard suddenly creaks right outside the bedroom door, and she squeezes her eyes shut, a whimper escaping her mouth.

"Liv?" she croaks out in a trembling voice, not expecting an answer, but unsure of precisely what is going on; if she had just been asleep and has now awakened, or if she is still caught in the grips of a nightmare and is perhaps sleepwalking.

Olivia still has a key to the apartment that Amanda had gotten made for her when it was decided that the older woman would be staying for a lengthier period of time than was originally thought, and she hadn't asked for it back, figuring it was good if someone had a spare key for emergencies, and because she still feels undecided about whether or not she wants to be separated from Olivia permanently. A part of her hopes that it will somehow work out in her favor, that even though she had been the one to ask her boss to leave, that maybe Olivia will decide to return and they can resume living together. But she knows that the other woman would never just randomly show up in the middle of the night without a good reason, and without either calling or texting first.

The creak of the floorboard sounds again, as if someone is hovering right outside the door, shifting back and forth from foot to foot, trying to decide whether or not to enter. Amanda scrubs her hands roughly over her face and then reaches over to turn on the bedside lamp, a dim light spilling across the room, and just barely brightening up the darkness in the corners. Her eyes are locked onto the narrow space between the bottom of the door and the tiles of the floor, and she is convinced that she sees a shadow pass by, that there is indeed a person standing there, someone who doesn't belong here, someone who continues to haunt her, no matter how many therapy appointments she attends or how hard she works to try to make things better for herself, to pick up the pieces and move on. This is the one thing she is afraid that she will never be free of; this disconcerting, alarming sense that she is never truly alone, that there is always someone lurking just out of sight, just beyond her field of vision, waiting to do her harm.

Amanda gathers her strength and resolve, straightening up to her full height, hands clenching into fists, and takes a cautious step toward the door, head cocked to the side, ears perked for any kind of sound. The floorboard creeks for a third time, like the mystery person is waiting for her, like they know she is coming; and she stops for a moment, feet rooted to the floor, heart racing out of control, and a bead of sweat rolls down her temple.

"Pull yourself together," she mutters to herself in disgust, and then strides right to the door, flinging it open to reveal an empty dark hallway.

She takes a step out of her bedroom, peering in all directions, alert for any sign of danger, anything to indicate that she is not alone, that everything is not as it should be, but there is complete silence now. Amanda shakes her head, running a weary hand through her knotted blonde tresses, and turns around to walk back to her bed. She is wide awake now, heart still galloping in her chest, and the sweat is drying rapidly on her skin, pajamas now sticking to her like glue, and she pulls her shirt away from her stomach, feeling uncomfortable.

Amanda shrugs out of the wet pajamas, tossing them to the floor, leaving her in just a pair of panties, so she pulls a tank top from her chest of drawers and yanks it over her head, blonde hair standing on end now, impatient and angry with her own ridiculous, childish behavior. The material scrapes roughly over her still-healing burn marks, and she chastises herself for not being more careful. There is still that scared, unsettled feeling swirling through her, and her gaze falls upon two items sitting on her nightstand; her cell phone and Olivia's ring.

She reaches over to pick up the ring with one hand and the phone with the other, thumb scrolling through her list of contacts until she spots the name she is searching for. She stands there for a moment, staring down at Olivia's name on the screen, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip, so very tempted to call the older woman, or at least send her a text. It is the middle of the night, though, and Olivia has to work in the morning, has been powering through the entire week so far, not having missed a day of work, despite how ill she has been. Both of them are now on the mend, but she knows her boss is tired, has been struggling to make it through her days, as case after case has been piled upon her team and they are still short staffed. Olivia has been sending her multiple texts over the past few days, trying to keep in touch, but Amanda has only been responding sporadically, the return messages short and vague and as non-personal as possible.

This week has not been going the way she had hoped it would. She had had great plans for picking up the pieces of her life and trying her best to move forward, to continue on with her usual appointments and meetings and routines in Olivia's absence, resolute in not needing anyone but herself, and trying to rid herself of these intense feelings she has for the other woman, feelings she is not even capable of defining. After her sudden decision to ask the older woman to leave, they had spent an extremely awkward Sunday night together, their magical sick day completely obliterated, little to no conversation taking place between them, and sleeping on separate sides of the bed instead of cuddled up together in the middle. As soon as Olivia had left for work on Monday morning, coughing and sneezing and dragging her suitcase behind her, Amanda had crawled right back into bed, remaining there for the entire day, alternately sobbing hysterically and dozing in a restless, nightmarish manner, her own coughing and sneezing jolting her awake on a regular basis. The rest of the week had been spent in much the same way, and she has rarely left the apartment, had canceled her appointments with Dr. Lindstrom and hadn't attended even one meeting. It is now early Friday morning and it looks as if the week won't be ending on a very positive note, finishing the way it had started.

The pain of missing the other woman is emotionally indescribable, but Amanda also feels it physically, like a sharp spike in her chest. She misses absolutely everything about living with Olivia; the shared meals, the silly movies, the good conversation, the laughter, having the person she trusts most in the world to hold her at night and ease the nightmares and flashbacks and anxiety; that feeling of safety and security, and the feeling of something else that she always tries to push down and ignore, because it is something she is not able to admit to herself, something that scares her on a primal level. Her kitchen table is empty, her couch is empty, and most heartbreaking of all, her bed is empty. She even misses Olivia's annoying quirks; the surprisingly loud snoring, the obnoxiously perky attitude in the morning whenever Olivia had actually been able to get a decent sleep and was well rested, and the way she would pester Amanda to eat, cooking her favorite foods and trying to make sure she wasn't getting too skinny.

She has to admit that there is a small part of her that had hoped Olivia would put up a fight about leaving, that it would take so much more to convince her to go, that maybe she would even beg to stay, but the other woman had been so quiet and hard to read and had left without much emotion at all. She wonders if perhaps her boss had been relieved that she was finally getting her life back, finally able to have a much-needed break from Amanda's clinginess and neediness, and all of her other deep-seated issues; that Olivia had actually been lying when she had said she was able to handle the seemingly never ending array of Amanda's problems.

Amanda sighs and scrolls away from Olivia's name, knowing she can't call the other woman just because she has had one of her usual nightmares, and clicks onto her collection of pictures instead. She allows herself a brief moment of amusement as she looks through them, flicking from one photo to the next. She has a surprisingly large amount of pictures of Olivia, especially from when they had been sick together. They had taken a series of what had been dubbed "sickie selfies" when they had been practically delirious with fever, giggling like teenage girls and posing ridiculously. Amanda has to admit that they both look pretty terrible, pasty white skin, greasy hair, circles beneath their eyes; but they also appear to be having a blast, and she thinks she can detect actual joy in her own expression, and Olivia's as well. She is overcome with an immense wave of despair and loneliness as she looks at them, realizing that they had been taken shortly before asking Olivia to leave.

Amanda flips to the next one, and is staring down at her favorite picture of Olivia now, one that she had snapped the week before when her boss had been working on her laptop at the coffee table and hadn't been aware of her creeping around with her phone. The other woman had realized at the last second that Amanda had been about to take her photo, and Olivia is peering over the frame of her glasses with one eyebrow arched, sticking her tongue out and flipping her the middle finger, showing that playful side of hers that occasionally makes an appearance, one of the many sides of the older woman that Amanda adores, and feels honored when Olivia is comfortable enough to let down her guard down and just be natural and silly with her.

Amanda bites her lip as she runs a hand over the screen, fingernail grazing the smirk on Olivia's face, trying to hold back a sudden onslaught of tears, and she decides that it's time to put the phone away and try to go back to sleep. She sighs and leans over to place the phone back on the nightstand, when it slips from her grip and she fumbles to catch it before it hits the floor, thumb scraping over the screen as she awkwardly swipes it into her other hand. She hears the faint ringing sound and looks down at it in surprise, muttering "Shit" under her breath, wondering who she had accidentally called.

When Olivia's tired voice says "Hello?" a minute later, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, not the least bit surprised that she has accidentally dialed the one person she has been trying to avoid, and figuring something like this would happen after she had decided against calling her. Amanda's heart skips a beat when she hears the other woman speak her name, sounding a bit more alarmed now. She fights the urge to hang up, knowing Olivia will just call back, and hesitantly raises the phone to her ear.

"Hi, Liv," she says softly.

"Amanda, what's wrong?" Olivia asks immediately, tone more alert now. "It's the middle of the night."

"Sorry, it was accident," she replies. "I didn't mean to call you."

There is quiet from the other end of the line for a moment. "An accident? Are you sure? What are you doing up, Amanda? Are you okay?"

She chuckles softly. "That's a lot of questions for the middle of the night, Liv."

"Amanda, what's wrong?" Olivia repeats, tone very concerned. "Your voice is shaking. Did you have a nightmare?"

"No..." Amanda trails off uncertainly, unsure why she feels the need to lie, but not wanting to admit that she can't seem to function without the other woman there; that everything just seems to have fallen apart even more since she has left, that eating and sleeping and any other daily activity now seems practically impossible to complete, and that her life has never felt emptier than it has this past week. "I'm just having some insomnia."

There is a soft sigh from the other end of the line, and Amanda can tell that Olivia doesn't believe her but is not willing to push the subject, as the older woman has been trying to allow her some space, a chance to stand on her own two feet and try to move forward with her recovery by herself. There is silence for a moment as they each listen to the other breathe, and Amanda's throat suddenly feels constricted, her lips parting to beg the other woman to come back, to stay for good and not abandon her again, to somehow realize that she still wants her here, even though she had been the one to ask Olivia to leave. Once again she feels that stab of sadness and resentment, that the older woman had not put up a fight at all, and had just walked right out the door, leaving her there all alone. She knows it is ridiculous to feel this way, that Olivia had just been doing as she had asked and was being her usual respectful, polite self, but she can't seem to rid herself of this sense that the older woman hadn't cared enough to fight for their friendship or whatever this is between them; a relationship that Amanda has been finding more difficult to define with each passing day.

"Amanda, why have you been ignoring me all week?" Olivia asks quietly.

"What?" she says, a frown crossing her features now, but there is an underlying sense of guilt, knowing that she has been avoiding the older woman, not able to make sense of the constant barrage of feelings; the anger, the shame, the loneliness, the need. "I always answer you when you text."

"Yes, you do, but the messages seem to be as vague and short as possible," Olivia replies gently. "And you never pick up the phone when I call. Am I not giving you enough space? I've been trying to keep up with what's going on in your life, and I want to make sure you're okay, but I can stop, if you want me to."

Amanda is silent for a moment, not knowing how to respond to this. She feels like she being torn in two; is being physically pulled in opposite directions.

"Amanda? Are you there?"

"I'm here," she sighs.

"Are you going to answer my question?" Olivia sounds puzzled now. "Am I not giving you enough space?"

She squeezes her eyes shut and puts a weary hand to her forehead, feeling overwhelmed by this short conversation, and by actually speaking with the older woman for the first time since Monday morning. She is afraid to keep talking, terrified that she will say something she shouldn't, that her sudden desperate need to start weeping might be the only sound that emits from her mouth. "Liv, I need to go," she chokes out. "I'm really tired, okay? Goodnight."

"Amanda, hey!" The alarm is back in Olivia's voice now. "Don't hang up. Can you talk to me, please? What's going on? Are you alright?"

"No," she admits in a low tone, swallowing hard to keep the tears at bay. "I'm not alright, Liv. But it's not your problem anymore, so don't worry about it. Goodnight." Her voice is firm this time, and she hangs up before the older woman can reply, the guilt stabbing into her again, and only intensifying when the phone rings right away, Olivia's number flashing across the screen.

She sits there with her head in her hands as it rings repeatedly for several minutes, pausing briefly for a moment, only to start right up again. Finally the sound stops for good, and her phone buzzes, indicating a new text message. She picks it up, wiping a tear from her eye, and squints at the screen in the dim light.

 _"Amanda, I don't know what's going on, but you're scaring me. Answer me now, or I'm coming over there."_

"Fuck," Amanda mutters, her eyebrows pulling down in a frown as her thumbs fly across the screen in response. The last thing Olivia should be doing is rushing over here in the middle of the night when she has to get up for work in a few hours and likely has a busy, exhausting day ahead of her.

 _"I'm sorry, Liv. I'm just not in the mood to chat right now. Everything is fine, though, I promise. Just having some trouble sleeping. Sorry for waking you. Have a good night."_

An answering text comes in right away, Olivia claiming she doesn't believe her, and they argue back and forth for a few minutes before Amanda finally seems to convince her that she is truly okay and hadn't meant to call her, and that she is on the verge of falling back to sleep. She is both relieved and disappointed when Olivia finally concedes, telling Amanda to message her as soon as she wakes up. Amanda agrees, even though she has no intention of continuing with this uncomfortable discussion, and she drops her phone back onto the nightstand, eyelids drooping closed.

xxx

The remainder of the night passes in a restless, terrifying mix of dreams, Olivia and the shadowy man of her nightmares combining together in a horrifying fashion, until Amanda finally slips out of bed at dawn, trudging wearily into the kitchen to make some coffee. There is already another message from the older woman waiting on her phone, and the texts continue to come in sporadically throughout the next few hours, Olivia asking why she isn't answering, each message becoming slightly more frantic than the last.

Amanda is back in bed, clutching onto the cup of coffee like it is her lifeline, head resting tiredly on her bent knees, listening as her phone rings. She doesn't even glance at the screen, knowing the person on the other end is Olivia, and feeling that sharp stab of guilt once again when the ringing stops and starts right back up. She is shaking with fatigue and worry and lack of food and doesn't have the energy for an emotional conversation, feels like she is drowning in her feelings, like they are devouring her and eating her alive.

Just when Amanda thinks this day can't get any worse and is desperate for some comfort, she glances toward the nightstand and is alarmed to see something very important missing. Her clock, cell pone, and a couple of books are sitting right where they belong, but Olivia's ring is not there. She stares at the empty space where the ring should be resting, unable to comprehend what is going on, where it possibly could have disappeared to, and scrambles out of the bed, the full implications of what has happened slamming into her like a train.

She tears apart the covers, flinging them roughly off the mattress and shaking each one out individually, bottom lip clamped firmly between her teeth, the taste of blood on her tongue, hoping the tiny object will roll out from the bundle of blankets and she will hear it hit the floor, but it is not there. Amanda gets on her hands and knees, crawling around the bed and actually climbing under it, searching frantically for the most precious thing she has ever been given, the most important possession Olivia owns, even going so far as to dig around one of the kitchen drawers to find a flashlight. She shines the light into every dark corner and crevice of the room, but it's as if the ring has suddenly vanished into thin air.

Amanda is slumped onto the floor, leaning back against the mattress with her head in her hands, fingers yanking at her own hair, absolutely stricken, her heart racing with disbelief, and the anxiety is suddenly swamping her body without warning, wrapping her so tightly within it's suffocating embrace, that she is literally choking on it. She gets onto her hands and knees, desperately sucking in a mouthful of air that doesn't come, and the sudden lack of oxygen to her brain seems to cut off all rational thinking, as she finds herself looking around wildly for the one thing that always soothes her, momentarily forgetting that it is the item she is searching for. It is ironic that the one object that always seems to be able to bring her back from the brink is now the very thing that is causing the panic.

She has completely lost control now, and is crawling around on the floor, choked little cries bursting from between her lips, vision darkening dramatically at the edges, the room swaying dizzily around her, and she is so far gone that she only has one thing in mind, to make it stop. The panic is so acute that none of Dr. Lindstrom's advice or suggestions even entire her mind, and it briefly occurs to her what a waste of time these stupid therapy appointments are as she heaves herself off the ground and staggers into the kitchen, holding onto the counters for dear life. It is not the most appropriate response to an anxiety attack, as she had learned after sneaking out of the apartment that night to gamble, but it is the only one she can think of that will put a stop to this insanity.

There is a bottle of vodka sitting in one of the cupboards and she yanks it out, not even bothering to find a glass, before prying it open and raising it to her lips. The alcohol burns a hot pathway of fire down her throat as she gulps a few large mouthfuls, feeling it settling into her system almost immediately, due to the lack of food. The panic begins to dissipate after a few minutes, along with the vast amount of emotions that have been consuming her lately, but the guilt and terror of losing Olivia's ring is still there, so she swallows another giant gulp, heading back to her bedroom on shaking legs.

Amanda is slumped down on the floor, leaning against the wall, playing idly with the flashlight, when the beam of light catches the glint of something silver embedded in a groove in the floorboard, right by one of the legs on the bed. She slowly crawls over on trembling limbs to see Olivia's ring sitting there, partially obscured in the small dent of the floor, and she reaches out to pick it up, holding it between shaking fingers, the relief that crashes over her so intense, she practically falls over.

It hits her how ridiculous this whole situation is, how she had jumped the gun so quickly when the panic had consumed her, how Olivia's ring had been right there the whole time and that it had likely slipped out of her hand during the night when she had tried to save her cell phone from falling to the floor. She starts laughing when she realizes that she is now drunk at lunch time on a weekday for no reason at all, and the laughter is verging on hysteria as she crawls back over to her place against the wall, shoulders slumped and legs splayed apart, raising the bottle to her lips again, not seeing the need to stop now that she has started, the alcohol creating a lovely, calm buzz inside her system now.

"Wow, you look like you're having a productive day so far," a sharp, sarcastic voice suddenly snaps.

Amanda jumps, so startled she almost drops the bottle of vodka onto the floor and catches it just in time, her head raising to see Olivia standing in front of her, staring down at her with a disgruntled expression, one hand perched on her hip and the other clutching the spare apartment key. She feels a gigantic grin spreading across her face, beyond thrilled to see Olivia now, despite her avoidance of the other woman for the past few days. She has the sudden urge to leap up from the floor and throw her arms around her boss, momentarily forgetting the events of the morning; that she had actually lost Olivia's ring for a short period of time, has been chugging vodka like it's going out of style, and has apparently decided that it wasn't important enough to put on clothes for the day. Her smile begins to fade when she realizes the older woman doesn't look nearly as pleased to see her.

Olivia is towering over her in high heeled boots and a long trench coat, dark jeans and a deep red sweater, brunette hair loose and flowing around her shoulders, police badge clipped to her belt and sunglasses perched on her nose, and the formidable body language only seems to add to her appearance, creating a somewhat dangerous look. Amanda is taken aback by how flawless and gorgeous the older woman is and the way her own body is reacting to her boss, a warm, tingling feeling spreading throughout her limbs.

"Liv, you look so beautiful," she says sincerely, squinting up at the older woman from her position on the floor. "And very, very tall," she adds with a short giggle.

"Amanda, please don't tell me you've been ignoring my phone calls and texts in favor of getting drunk in the middle of the day," Olivia says in response, completely disregarding the compliment, as she removes her sunglasses with an impatient hand.

"Okay, I won't tell you," Amanda replies with a faint smile, shrugging her shoulders.

The other woman sighs loudly, fixing Amanda with a glare, and she feels herself withering under the intense scrutiny, shoulders hunching up around her ears, slumping further down against the wall. "What the hell is going on?" Olivia's voice is stern and icy, lacking her usual compassionate and empathetic tone. "What have you been up to for this entire week, besides doing your best to ignore me? Have you even been going to your appointments and meetings or have you completely given up?" Her eyes rake up and down Amanda's body, gesturing to the bottle of booze and the lack of clothing. "So is this what giving up looks like? Because it sure seems like it to me."

"I'm not giving up," Amanda mumbles, curling into herself against the wall. "I'm just taking a little break."

"A break?" Olivia echoes incredulously. "You don't get to have a break, Amanda, not when you're teetering on the edge of a breakdown here; not when you're doing god knows what on your own all day long. If there was a ever time to keep pushing forward, it's _now_. I know things are really bad." She gestures again with an indignant flap of her hand. "I think that much is obvious. You said you wanted me to leave so you could try to heal on your own, but I don't think you've been trying at all, have you?"

"I have so," Amanda argues, feeling a spike of anger now, but she has mixed emotions about defending herself. "You have no idea how hard I've been trying, Olivia. I just needed a little bit of help, okay?"

"In the form of alcohol?" Olivia replies, and Amanda feels the anger growing when she takes in the condescending look on the other woman's face. "You already have help, Amanda, from Dr. Lindstrom, and the Gamblers Anonymous meetings, and myself. You don't need to get it from a bottle of booze."

"Well, last time I checked, I wasn't an alcoholic, Liv," she snarls. "I should be able to have a drink now and then without you jumping down my throat, and I wasn't aware that I needed your permission first. And you're the last person who should be commenting on my drinking," she adds in a muttered tone, eyebrow arching when she sees that she has hit a nerve. "Didn't you say you had a bit of an issue after what happened with Lewis?"

"We're not here to talk about me, Amanda," Olivia answers through clenched teeth.

"No of course we're not," Amanda mumbles, rolling her eyes. "We're never here to talk about you. Olivia Benson, such a woman of mystery!" She huffs out an incensed sigh. "I have a newsflash for you, Liv. This whole mysterious act you've got going on is not cute or amusing, okay? It's just annoying. And the act is getting really old now. Been there, done that, and I'm over it."

"Okay, I can see you're really angry right now-" Olivia starts to snap, but Amanda cuts her off.

" _Me?_ " she snorts out with an irritated laugh. "Liv, you stormed in here without even asking first, looking like you're ready to rip my throat out just because I'm indulging in a little drink."

"A little drink? You're chugging that whole bottle there, Amanda," Olivia points out dryly. "So is this one of the goals you're working toward with Dr. Lindstrom right now? Alcoholism?"

Amanda barks out another harsh laugh, no amusement to be found. "So self-righteous," she mutters, shaking her head. "You've been through this same thing, but you just stand there, looking down on me. Quite literally," she adds, staring up at Olivia. "And I'm taking some time off from Dr. Lindstrom and from the meetings. I told you before that everything was too much, Liv, and I needed a break, so I'm going to do something different with my time, something that I never should have stopped doing in the first place."

"Oh?" Olivia arches a questioning, curious eyebrow, hands planted on her hips again. "And what might that be?"

"I'm coming back to work," she states resolutely, trying to keep her tongue from tripping over her words, desperate to sound authoritative, despite her current state of inebriation and undress. "I can't do this anymore, Liv. Day after day of meetings and appointments and being scared of my own shadow. Day after day without you and the boys and my job. I'm not doing this anymore. I'm coming back."

"Oh, like hell you are, Amanda," Olivia snaps. "It's noon and you're sitting on the floor in your underwear, drinking vodka straight from the bottle. You can't actually be serious with that request."

"It wasn't a request," she murmurs, before realizing what she is saying.

"Pardon me?" Olivia's eyebrows are both raised now. "Have you received a promotion or two that I wasn't are of, Amanda? Because last time I checked, I was still your boss, and you can't just do whatever you damn well please. You seem to think otherwise, though, as you've always had some trouble understanding that particular concept."

"Why do you take everything away from me, Liv?" she asks softly, staring up at her boss, seemingly unable to control the words that come pouring out of her mouth, knowing they are hurtful and not entirely true, but she can't seem to stop. "You took my privacy away when you forced me to reveal details of the assault, you took my job away when you decided I was too incompetent to work, and if that wasn't bad enough, you took yourself away when I became too much to handle."

" _Excuse_ me?" Olivia's eyes are flashing furiously now, her tone seething and bitter, biting off her words as she speaks, and Amanda shrinks away from her, pressing herself against the wall. "How _dare_ you insinuate that I did any of those things, Amanda?"

"But you did do them," Amanda whispers, gazing up at the older woman, alarmed to see the intensity of Olivia's emotions, as the older woman is usually able to keep herself in much check better than this, and she knows she has pushed way too far, is being very disrespectful, and curses herself for not having better control of her thoughts and actions while under the influence of alcohol.

"You _needed_ to talk about the assault and the relapse, Amanda," Olivia states firmly, crossing her arms over her chest and pacing back and forth in quick, irate strides across the floor in front of her. "You were holding it all inside and it was doing terrible things to you; you were having a breakdown. It's _still_ doing terrible things to you. Ultimately, _you_ were the one who decided to talk to me about it, though; _you_ were the one who asked me for help. And I'm very glad you did."

Olivia stops short and gazes down at her with piercing dark eyes, arms still folded across her chest. "As for your job, I'm going to repeat what I just said: it's noon and you're sitting on the floor in your underwear, drinking vodka straight from the bottle. Tell me, Amanda, do you think you can handle your job right now, right at this moment? I don't think so," the older woman continues, before she can even open her mouth to answer. "And as for that last thing..."

Olivia bends down so she is kneeling on the floor in front of Amanda now, and her voice is much quieter when she speaks again. "I was just doing as you asked, Amanda. I was trying to respect your privacy and your boundaries. I'm not a mind reader, alright? If you're verbally asking me to leave while at the same time thinking you want me to stay, how am I supposed to know that? I had absolutely no intention of leaving; I didn't see that coming at all. You completely blindsided me. And I specifically _told_ you that you were not too much for me to handle, so I don't know why you are stating otherwise, although the excessive amount of alcohol consumption could have something to do with it."

The other woman is staring very intently at her now. "And I still can't figure out if you were telling me the truth on Sunday; if you asked me to leave because you were worried that I was becoming too much of a crutch, or if you were jealous of a two-minute phone conversation between my ex-boyfriend and I. Or maybe it was a mixture of the two?"

Amanda is stunned into silence for a moment, staring back at Olivia with her mouth slightly open, and she is aware of the nervous, sickening way that her heart is fluttering inside her chest, her limbs trembling with exhaustion and alcohol and emotion, the realization that the older woman is a lot more perceptive than she lets on. "Why would I be jealous?" she finally asks, tone so low that Olivia has to lean closer to hear her.

"You tell me," the other woman replies, voice just as low as Amanda's now. "I think you need to start being more truthful with me about some things here, Amanda, because I honestly don't know what to do anymore. I don't know whether to leave you completely alone here or whether to move back in. Your self destructive behavior scares the hell out of me, but I don't know if I should be here at all times to monitor you or if I should let you try to work though it on your own." She takes a deep a breath. "I feel like you talk in circles sometimes, like you skirt around the truth of certain subjects, or you are outright lying. And I don't know if you're doing this on purpose or if you actually are very confused about things. I just feel like I don't know anything right now. I'm confused about a lot of things myself."

"But you know everything, Liv," Amanda whispers, her brow puckered slightly, words very heartfelt, and she is surprised to hear the older woman speaking in this manner. "That's why you're the boss. The best boss in the world," she adds emphatically.

Olivia's lip quirks up at the side, the barest hint of amusement peeking through the anger and frustration, and she scrubs her hands over her face in an exhausted gesture. "Well, thank you, honey. Although it didn't sound like you thought I was such a good boss a few minutes ago."

Amanda shrugs, the anger draining out of her like a deflated balloon, her usual admiration for the older woman taking over again. "I still think you are. Even when you don't let me have my way and you're being difficult."

Olivia chuckles softly and Amanda feels a tremulous smile stretching across her face. "I'm the difficult one? Oh, boy, I think you have that backwards there, Amanda." The older woman shakes her head as she continues to regard her intently. "You are the most infuriating best friend I've ever had, you know that?"

"Thank you, Liv," Amanda replies appreciatively.

"Honey, that was not a compliment," Olivia sighs in exasperation. "I think we need to continue this conversation when you've sobered up a bit, okay?" There is a slight pause. "And when we've both got a better handle on our emotions. I can see how overwhelmed you are, and I'm really sorry if I scared you before. I didn't mean to lose my temper like that. You seem to elicit some strong emotions in me, Amanda," she concedes quietly. "But you have to realize that this behavior is not okay. And you need to be honest with me about things. You can't get angry at me for just doing as you asked, sweetheart, and you can't ignore me when I'm trying to get ahold of you. It's not fair, and if I'm being absolutely truthful, it really hurts, okay?"

Amanda stares up at her boss, pain unfurling in her chest, and feels tears pricking at her eyes now. "I hurt you?" she whispers, absolutely stricken.

"Honey, this entire conversation has hurt me," Olivia admits in a soft tone. "You said some terrible things, and so did I, so I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry to come down so hard on you for things that I have also done, but I just don't want you going down the same bad road that I have. And yes, you hurt me when you asked me to leave, alright? And you've hurt me by ignoring almost all of my communications over the past few days. So there, I'm not being so mysterious now, am I? The truth is that you've hurt me a lot this week, Amanda, and I'm having a really hard time dealing with it." The older woman is sitting cross legged on the floor in front of her now, and she bows her head, putting her hands over her face for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Liv," Amanda whispers, feeling like her heart is breaking with the other woman's revelation, and she reaches out hesitantly, running a shaking hand through Olivia's thick hair, the dark strands slipping through her fingers like silk. She shifts closer to her, feeling like she is unable to stop touching the other woman now that she has started, since they have been separated all week, and she has been so deprived of the constant physical affection that she has grown accustomed to, has craved desperately when it had disappeared from her everyday life.

She is relieved when Olivia leans into her touch instead of pulling away, and continues to comb her fingers gently through the spill of brunette hair, the faintest scent of vanilla shampoo emanating from the dark locks, and her hand slides down to the back of the older woman's neck, slipping beneath the collar of her coat and messaging the tense muscles she finds there. Olivia's head droops down to rest upon her shoulder, and Amanda thinks she hearts a slight sniffle from the other woman, and her heart aches again. Her boss' face is hidden by a curtain of thick hair, and she pushes it back, tucking it behind her ear, peering down to see that Olivia's eyes are closed but there is a single tear clinging to her lower lashes, breaking free and rolling down her cheek.

"Liv, I'm so sorry," she murmurs, blinking hard against her own wave of emotions, and gently swiping the tear away with the pad of her thumb. She rests her cheek against the older woman's bent head for a moment, and then turns her face, pressing her lips into Olivia's hair and holding them there for several seconds, trying to convey her heartfelt apology. "I shouldn't have said those things to you. I guess it's a good thing you left, huh? I'm not getting any better, I'm just getting worse, and it's turning me into a terrible person. You were right to get away from me." Her throat tightens as she chokes out her next words. "I don't think I'm ever going to get better, Liv."

Olivia's head snaps up at this confession, and she is staring intently at Amanda now, their faces so close that their breaths are mingling together, and Amanda can smell the alcohol emanating from between her own lips, hoping it doesn't offend the older woman. "So you just decided this?" Olivia says, tone quiet, but radiating with a certain intensity. "That you're never going to get better?"

"I don't think I'm the one who decided it," Amanda mumbles, looking away.

"Who decided it, then?"

"The universe," she says with a defeated shrug. "I think the universe is trying to tell me something here, Liv. I feel like everything keeps going wrong, that no matter how hard I try, I just fuck everything up." She looks at Olivia, her eyes filling with tears. "I just push everyone away. So maybe I just need to stop trying for now, just take a break from everything and everyone."

Olivia's hands are grasping gently onto the sides of Amanda's face now, thumbs stroking soothingly up and down her temples, and Amanda clasps onto both of her wrists with shaking fingers, so they are locked together on the floor, faces only inches apart. "Sweetheart, if you had succeeded in pushing me away, I wouldn't be here right now, would I?" Olivia whispers. "I wouldn't have rushed over here on my very short lunch break to make sure you were okay. You're not getting rid of me that easily, alright? You can be a bit hard to deal with when you've been drinking and your behavior is not exactly stellar, but I'm not giving up on you, no how hard you try to push me away. You're stuck with me." Amanda's heart rate picks up as Olivia leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "And no one but you gets to decide if you are going to get better or not, honey. Only you have the power to make that decision. _You_ are the one in control."

"Liv, I don't deserve you," Amanda says softly. "I'm sorry I've been ignoring you this week. I didn't mean to hurt you, I just thought I would do better if I tried to be by myself, but everything has been worse. I don't know what to do either; I want you here with me, but I don't know if you should be. I'm really confused about a lot of things." She feels like she is beginning to sober up a bit now, and there is the start of a headache at the base of her skull, radiating up through her brain.

"I know you're confused about things, honey. I am too," Olivia admits in a quiet voice. "There is just a lot going on right now, isn't there?"

"Liv, I miss you so much," Amanda admits, voice dragging out in an unintentional whimper, covering her eyes with her hands. "This week has been so awful without you. I'm sorry I made you leave."

She feels Olivia grasp onto the back of her bent knees and give a slight tug, scooting Amanda's body the short distance across the floor so she is pressed against the other woman's chest now, cocooned by Olivia's legs circled around her, the older woman's arms winding their way around her back. She rests her head on her boss' shoulder, fingers clenching onto the arms of Olivia's trench coat, overcome with a wave of remorse and regret for how she has been treating her over the past few days, and how she had spoken to her earlier.

"Don't apologize, sweetheart," the other woman says softly into her ear. "It's important for you to be able to heal on your own, and the last thing I want to do is enable you in any way. I think I let my own feelings cloud my judgment sometimes, and I got a little too used to living with you as well, and having to leave was just so unexpected. That's why it hurts so much."

Amanda removes her hands from Olivia's coat and slides her arms underneath to wrap around the soft red sweater the other woman is wearing. She runs her fingers up and down Olivia's back, enjoying the feel of the material against her skin and so content to be back in the older woman's embrace after spending several days apart. "I don't know what to do, Liv," she whispers.

"I don't know what to do either," her boss replies quietly. "On the one hand, I don't want to impede your recovery in any way, but on the other hand, I'm so worried about you and I want to be here with you all time. Honey, you are even thinner than when I was here earlier this week." Her fingers are tracing the knobby ridges of Amanda's spine over the thin tank top she is wearing, sending pleasant tingles throughout her body.

"I'm just not hungry, Liv," she mutters, pushing her face into Olivia's neck, inhaling the faint scent of vanilla again, this time a perfume instead of shampoo. "It's so hard to eat. I know I've lost too much weight. I know how bad I look. I'm so ugly now, I'm disgusting."

"Amanda Rollins, you are _not_ ugly." Olivia's voice is suddenly very stern again, and she jumps slightly, feeling the older woman's hand rubbing soothingly across her shoulder blades. "Sorry, honey," she says, tone softer now. "I didn't mean to scare you. You are not ugly," the older woman repeats, and Amanda feels the back of her neck being squeezed gently. "There is nothing even remotely ugly about you." There is a slight pause, and the other woman's voice is almost a whisper when she speaks again. "You're beautiful."

Amanda pulls away slightly to fix Olivia with an incredulous look, her heart giving a sharp leap inside her chest. "Really?" she says, tone hushed, and she can't help the tendril of awe in her voice, blown away by the other woman's admission. "You think I'm beautiful?"

"Yes," Olivia replies, giving a slight laugh, her eyebrows furrowing lightly, and she strokes the back of her knuckles briefly across Amanda's cheek. "Why is that so weird? Didn't you just tell me I was beautiful when I walked in the door?"

Amanda nods wordlessly, and Olivia raises her eyebrows. "So I can't say it back?"

"But you _are_ beautiful," Amanda answers, tone still quiet, as she gazes at the older woman, Olivia looking so much more professional and put together then she herself does, radiant olive skin glowing, dark eyes and hair shining, clothes fitted to perfection, all traces of her bad cold seemingly gone now. "You're amazing, you're gorgeous, you're..." She trails off, a blush burning across her cheeks, realizing that she has to sober up and needing to watch what she says. "You're so much prettier than I am, Liv. Look at me, I'm skinny and pale and my hair is a disaster and I have burn marks all over me. I'm a complete mess."

Olivia gazes quietly at her for a moment, that unreadable expression on her face again, and then her lip quirks up at the corner in a mischievous grin and she reaches out to rest a hand gently on top of Amanda's head, fingers apparently digging around for something in her hair. "Now that you mention it, it is kind of a disaster up here. When was the last time you washed this mop? It's staring to resemble a nest; you might have something living in here now, maybe some kind of animal." She combs through the snarled blonde strands with her fingertips, continuing her search for whatever might have taken up residence in Amanda's hair, apparently trying to lighten the dark mood.

Amanda laughs, swatting the other woman's hand away from her head, and Olivia smiles gently at her, reaching out to put her hands on either side of her face again. "You are beautiful, sweetheart," she says firmly, their gazes locked on one another. "And nothing that you are going through can change that, okay? You are beautiful inside and out, even when your behavior isn't the best."

Amanda smiles back at her, lips trembling slightly, and they stare at each other in silence for a moment, Olivia's eyes deep brown pools of warmth. The feelings welling up inside of her take her breath away and she is relieved when the other woman starts speaking again, as she had been about to blurt something out that would never have been able to take back.

"Why are you drinking, honey?" Olivia asks softy, the conversation turning serious again. "I should have asked that question right away, before getting so angry with you, before that whole conversation exploded into a big fight. I'm sorry." She pauses. "Did something happen?"

Amanda looks away, resisting the urge to clamp her teeth down hard onto her lower lip. "Yeah, something happened, but it's okay now. It was my own fault. I panicked and couldn't get the anxiety under control, so this seemed like my only option."

"What about the other coping mechanisms Dr. Lindstrom has taught you?" Olivia questions with a frown. "Did you try them or did you automatically go the self destructive route?" She closes her eyes briefly, seeming to catch herself. "Sorry, Amanda. I just hate seeing you do this to yourself," she continues softly. "What about the ring? I thought you said that usually works for you now, that you haven't had as much trouble getting yourself under control when the panic starts."

Amanda is still avoiding her gaze. "It didn't work this time," she mumbles, her heart clenching as she lies to Olivia again, especially after what they have just been arguing about. "I guess I was just too far gone this time."

Olivia is quiet for a moment and Amanda's heart rate has picked up again, pounding with trepidation. The older woman is quite astute and can read other people very well, and she usually seems to be able to detect when Amanda is not being truthful with her, but she is adamant in keeping this particular screw up a secret, especially since it had turned out fine in the end anyway. The last thing she wants is for Olivia to think she can't be trusted with her most prized possession and to have it taken away from her. The ring has barely left her grasp since Olivia had moved out, and sometimes Amanda thinks it is the only thing keeping her tethered to reality, and it gives her a great amount of comfort to have a tiny piece of her best friend to hold onto as she struggles to make it through her dark, lonely days.

"So something happened that was so bad that you felt like spending your morning getting wasted was the only way to fix it?" Olivia asks quietly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Amanda replies firmly. "It's fixed now, it's fine. I shouldn't have done this, but I'm starting to sober up now. It would be hard not to after that conversation," she adds wryly. "This has been a little intense here, Liv."

"I know," Olivia replies softly. "It seems like everything between us has been a little intense lately, Amanda."

"Yeah," she whispers, bowing her head slightly, Olivia's hands coming down to rest on each of her shoulders. "It's scary."

"What are you scared of?" the older woman asks gently.

"Everything," Amanda mutters, and she stares straight at Olivia now, blue eyes piercing into brown. "You."

Olivia frowns deeply, an expression of confusion crossing her features. "Me? I scare you?"

Amanda nods slowly, their gazes still fixed intently on each other.

Olivia's fingertips are stroking softly up and down her arms now, featherlight touches along her bare skin. "Why do I scare you, sweetheart?"

Amanda reaches out to run the back of her knuckles lightly across Olivia's cheekbone, causing the other woman's eyes to flutter closed. "Because of the way I feel when you're around." She hesitates for a moment. "Because I think I..." Amanda trails off, biting down hard on her lower lip, realizing again that she needs to sober up, that she is dangerous while drinking, that she is going to let slip all her secrets.

Olivia's eyes are open again and she runs a thumb over Amanda's lip, swiping away a drop of blood. "What do you think?" she whispers.

There is complete silence as they continue to regard each other intensely and Amanda's heart has quickened to an uncomfortable pace once again. Olivia has one hand on the side of Amanda's face and the other threading through her hair. "Please tell me what you're thinking, sweetheart," she urges softly.

Amanda opens her mouth to answer, the words right on the tip of her tongue, the need to finally try to put a voice to all of these jumbled thoughts and emotions, Olivia's gaze seemingly penetrating right through to her soul, when the moment is suddenly shattered by the buzzing of the older woman's cell phone.

"Shit," Olivia mutters, and Amanda emits a deep sigh as the other woman leans away from her, fishing her phone out of the pocket of her coat, frowning down at the screen. "It's Fin. We just got a new case; I have to go."

They struggle to their feet, the older woman holding onto Amanda's arms tightly to make sure she is steady before letting go of her. There is another long moment of silence, and Amanda suddenly feels awkward now, shifting slowly from foot to foot.

"Liv, you need to go," she whispers.

"I know," Olivia replies softy, reaching down to clasp her hand in her own. "Are you going to be okay? I don't feel right about leaving you alone."

"You have to, Liv," Amanda answers quietly. "I'll be okay, I promise. You have a job to do."

Olivia pulls Amanda into her arms and they hold on tightly to one another, Amanda grasping onto the back of the older woman's trench coat with both fists, burying her face in her neck, suddenly on the verge of tears, disappointed that her boss is leaving once again, but relieved that the secret she had been about to spill is still hidden safely within her.


	15. Chapter 15

Amanda is standing in front of the mirror in her bathroom, hands gripping the sides of the counter, staring critically at her reflection, running a practiced eye up and down her body, scrutinizing every single detail. She is freshly showered, golden hair washed and brushed to a high gloss and shine, makeup meticulously applied, and dressed up for the first time since the night of her gambling relapse and assault. She has actually chosen to put on a dress, an article of clothing she has not been comfortable enough to wear since that night, when it had been so easy for that random, violent stranger to take advantage of her, to so brutally violate her without even having to remove any clothes, to take everything from her in the space of only a few minutes.

She feels quite vulnerable in this outfit, even though it is not the least bit skimpy, and doesn't fit quite right anymore because of the weight loss, gaping and bunching in places where the material should cling. That problem will be somewhat fixed when she puts her jacket on to hide the flaws of the garment, but she is still showing more skin than she usually allows while out in public now, as the only person she feels comfortable around in any state of dress or lack thereof is Olivia. The older woman has now seen Amanda in her underwear or completely naked more times than she can count, but it doesn't bother her in the least, and she has been quite surprised by how much she doesn't care, how relaxed and natural she feels around Olivia now, no matter what the situation.

It is Friday evening and Amanda is waiting for Olivia to meet her at the apartment once again so they can go out for a few hours, to give the older woman a break from the stress of her job and to get Amanda out of the confines of her home for a little while, a place she finds both comforting and constricting, and where she has spent way too much time over the past several days, hiding from the world and brooding over her separation from Olivia, surrendering to that desperate urge to just give up. It is also a chance for both of them to have a rest from the intensity and gravity of what has been going on between them for the past few days, the ignoring and the arguing and the uncertainty, and the indecision about what to do regarding where Olivia should be staying.

After their explosive fight earlier that day, Olivia had tucked Amanda back into bed for some much needed rest and to sleep off the excessive amount of alcohol she had consumed, before returning to the precinct to tackle the squad's newest case. They had texted sporadically throughout the afternoon, and Olivia had suggested that she come over again after work so they can talk and try to come to some sort of resolution about the multiples issues Amanda is still facing, and this odd, unresolved strangeness between them. Instead of sleeping the afternoon away like she had intended, Amanda has spent the last several hours doing some deep thinking and soul searching about every single aspect of her life, and had shocked herself by suggesting they go out for the evening instead of spending it cooped up in the apartment like they so often do.

The events of the day have frightened her deeply and left her very shaken and unsure, and she has resolved to start trying harder again; to stop the backwards slide into that deep, dark pit of despair, and to find that courageous and motivated attitude that she seems to have lost this week, the attitude that had been helping her slowly put the pieces of her life back together before Olivia had left, when she hadn't missed even one appointment or meeting and was at least giving it all she had, even when things were still quite bleak from time to time, and had only seemed to be taking two steps forward for every ten steps back.

The hangover from this morning's impromptu drinking session is still clinging pretty tightly, but she is determined to shake it off, to do her best to ignore it, and have a nice time with Olivia. She doesn't want to cause more problems for the older woman, no heartache or worry, and just wants her to relax and enjoy their evening. She had shocked herself again by suggesting a night out at the movie theater, offering to treat Olivia to a lighthearted evening away from the cramped apartment where they spend so much of their time together, still feeling the need to convey how sorry she is for what she had put the older woman through earlier that day. Sitting in a pitch dark room full of strangers, some of them of the male gender, does not exactly fill her with joy, but she figures it is time to rejoin the land of the living again and to start venturing out to do normal activities, the things she used to do on a regular basis without giving it a second thought. She knows sitting in a theater for the evening will not give them a chance to chat and hash things out between them, but they need some down time, some lightness and laughter for a little while, before the heavy stuff begins again. She reminds herself that she had been able to get through all of those appointments and meetings and jogs in the park all on her own, so surely it shouldn't be a problem to make it through a two-hour movie with Olivia right beside her, the one person in the world she feels safest with.

Amanda smirks slightly at her reflection, realizing that she is way too dressed up for a night out at the theater to see the newest silly comedy, but wanting to try harder with her appearance, along with everything else. Her terrible, self destructive behavior this week, especially earlier that day, and Olivia's reaction to it, seems to have lit a sudden fire beneath her, prompting her to do better in all aspects of her life. And she has to admit that she wants to look good for Olivia, even moreso after the older woman had stunned her with the comment that she thinks Amanda is beautiful. She does not agree at all, but it fills her with a warm and incredulous feeling, that the other woman is able to look at her that way, even when Olivia has seen her at her absolute worst; naked, sick, drunk, crying, consumed with nightmares and panic.

She gives her reflection one last critical look before leaving the bathroom and gathering up her coat and purse, Olivia's ring tucked safely into her wallet. This is as good as it's going to get right now; she is still too pale and thin but has tried her best to rid herself of that usual haunted, somewhat sickly look by actually showering and applying makeup, has made an effort to at least put on some decent clothing, and it is definitely a far cry from how she had looked a few hours ago, a massive improvement from the tank top and panties and greasy mop of hair that she had been sporting earlier in the day.

Olivia is quickly grabbing something to eat on the way to her place, as Amanda hadn't wanted to waste any money on another meal out at a restaurant that she will likely just sit there and pick at again. She knows the food issue is something she will have to work very hard on as well, that she will really have to step up her game in that area, but there are so many other things going on right now, that she just doesn't have the energy to deal with it. The lingering upset stomach from this morning's alcohol consumption is certainly not helping matters, so she has just been nibbling here and there on random bits of leftover meals in the fridge, hoping it will get her through the evening.

She is pacing impatiently by the door when she hears the spare key turn in the lock and stops short, her heart giving a quick leap, stomach flip flopping with nervous anticipation, a grin spreading across her face when Olivia steps inside like she belongs there, like she has never left. She has that same urge to throw herself into the other woman's arms, like she had at lunch time, but is hesitant when she remembers how angry Olivia had been with her earlier, even though she has apologized and been forgiven. The relief she feels at the older woman's return to her home is overwhelming and leaves her somewhat shaky on her feet, and a little breathless.

Olivia shuts the door behind her, turning to face Amanda, looking quite tired and worn down from her day, but she is relieved to see a matching smile on the older woman's face when Olivia notices her standing there, and brown eyes lock onto blue, holding one anothers' gazes for a moment without speaking. There seems to be a strange sort of expectancy in the air, and Amanda has the sudden odd sensation that they are about to embark on a date, and not just a night out as a couple of best friends. She doesn't voice what she is thinking, though, and continues to stand there in silence, her limbs twitching with the urgent need to be in the other woman's embrace.

"Well, you look a little better than the last time I saw you," Olivia chuckles lightly. "Wow, you look wonderful, sweetheart."

Amanda hears the surprised gasp that emits from the taller woman's mouth when she can't fight that urge anymore and actually does fling herself into Olivia's arms, her heart giving another quick leap at her boss' compliment. She buries her face into the older woman's neck, inhaling that faint scent of vanilla perfume once again, and feels Olivia's arms close tightly around her, one hand coming up to smooth through her freshly washed and styled hair.

"Honey, what's wrong?" her boss murmurs into her ear. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine; just really glad to see you. I wasn't sure if you were going to come back," Amanda admits in a whisper, and finds herself being pushed gently away and held at arm's length, Olivia regarding her with a concerned frown.

"Why wouldn't I come back?"

"You know why, Liv," she mutters, a blush of embarrassment creeping across her cheeks. "I'm really sorry about earlier."

"I know you are, honey," the older woman says softly, running her hand down Amanda's arm. "I know this has been a bad week for you and things were really tough today." Amanda is aware of her boss regarding her more closely now, Olivia's dark gaze penetrating deeply into her own. "Are you sure you want to go out tonight? We can just stay here and talk, if you would rather do that."

"I do want to talk; I know we need to, but we can do it a little later," Amanda replies, reaching out to clasp the other woman's hand in her own. "Right now let's just take a bit of a break, okay? I don't think I can handle another deep heart-to-heart chat quite yet. Things have been a bit too intense lately. I just want to forget everything for a little while and have a nice time with you."

"That sounds great, sweetheart," Olivia answers, squeezing her hand gently. "I'm glad you feel well enough to go out for the evening and get out of the apartment for awhile. Are you sure a movie theater is the place you want to go, though? We can always do something else instead."

Amanda doesn't say what they are likely both thinking; that their last foray out to the movies had been a complete disaster, the explosive meltdown in the car with Fin and Carisi, the start of the all-consuming anxiety disorder that has kept her a prisoner in her own brain and body, the spiraling of the nightmares and flashbacks which she had already been suffering from but had been kicked up into high gear starting that night. But it had also been the catalyst for every single positive thing that has taken place over the past few weeks; the confession to Olivia and her other teammates of the gambling relapse and assault, beginning the search for the mystery man, even though he will likely never be caught, the appointments with Dr. Lindstrom, the meetings, learning different ways to try to get a handle on the multitude of issues that are plaguing her, and most of all, this relationship she now shares with the woman who has come to be the most important person in her life.

Amanda knows that she will never be able to look upon that night with complete negativity, even though it was one of the hardest nights of her life, and that there will always be a certain amount of gratefulness there; that Olivia had pushed so hard to get through to her and break down her walls, because it has led her to where she is now, to this friendship that means the world to her, to a kind of intimacy she hadn't known could exist between two people, and to something that she can now finally recognize and admit to herself but hasn't had the courage to voice just yet, aware that the possible rejection could devastate her beyond anything she has ever known.

"Yes," Amanda replies with determination. "I'm sure. I want you to laugh and have fun tonight, Liv. I want you to see that I can do more than just fall apart on a regular basis. I want to prove that I'm not just this pathetic mess who has given up on life." She pauses briefly. "And I want to make it up to you; to say sorry for everything."

"Oh, honey, you don't have to prove anything to me," Olivia replies softly, running her fingertips comfortingly over Amanda's cheek. "I shouldn't have said you had given up. And you don't have to make it up to me. It's okay to admit that you're not ready to handle this kind of thing yet. You've had a very challenging day, and it's understandable if you're not up for this kind of activity right now. And you are not a pathetic mess," she adds quietly. "I know we've had our rough times and you slipped up a bit today and I was upset with you. We both lost our tempers, but I don't think there's anyone that I laugh with and have more fun with either. You don't have to prove anything," she repeats more firmly.

"I'm not just proving it to you, Liv," Amanda murmurs. "I need to prove it to myself. I need to know that eventually I will be able to do these normal things without it being this huge deal, something that has to be meticulously planned in advance and worked out to allow for multiple panic attacks." She shrugs. "I have to start somewhere, sometime. If not now, then when?"

Olivia regards her in silence for a moment, those deep brown eyes still locked onto her own, and then smiles gently at her, enfolding Amanda into her embrace again. "Okay, honey. If you're absolutely sure, let's go have a fun night out at the movies."

Amanda raises her head to smile back, and then grasps onto the older woman's hand, intertwining their fingers together. "Okay, let's go."

xxx

The movie theater is several blocks from her apartment building and the walk there is pleasant; New York has had several days in a row of warm, sunny weather, a nice break from the chilly, rainy autumn they've been having so far, and even though it is dark out now, it hasn't cooled off much yet, the warm breeze feeling lovely and soothing against Amanda's bare legs. She links her pinky finger with Olivia's as they walk, gently swinging their arms back and forth between them, and is relieved when the conversation comes easily; is light and silly and not bogged down with worry and darkness and talk of what had happened earlier that day, as she has spent the past several hours dealing with the fallout on her own, and is not quite ready to deal with it with Olivia yet.

Her stomach clenches slightly as they approach the theater and she sees how busy it is, the thick crowd spilling through the doors to pool onto the sidewalk, people shuffling around to make several disorganized lines leading indoors, loud laughter and dozens of different discussions punctuating the night air. Her finger tightens involuntarily around Olivia's, and she feels the older woman's hand slide into her own, squeezing protectively. As she observes the controlled chaos, it suddenly occurs to her that this might have been a big mistake, that maybe in her haste to make up for everything she has done this past week, giving in to that urge to just stay home and not put forth any effort in her recovery, putting Olivia through hell with her terrible words and actions; that she has possibly jumped the gun and committed to a normal activity far too soon, and that she could be at home with the older woman right now, having a quiet, private evening, just the two of them, in the safety and silence of her apartment and away from anyone who might try to do her harm.

The thought of having her body so close to all of these people, that the men in the crowd will no doubt be touching her in some way, that it is going to be virtually impossible to avoid physical contact with every single person here because of how insanely busy it is, has her swallowing hard against a rush of vomit and reaching up to press a hand to her mouth. She curses herself for thinking this was such a good idea, and fights the urge to turn around and march away, to escape back to her apartment and hide out there until these irrational emotions subside, until she can feel normal again, until the thought of a man touching her any way, no matter how innocently, doesn't induce this uneasy feeling that she is not safe, this certainty that she is going to be hurt again, her first instinct to start screaming in terror while fleeing the scene. This grand plan of hers for a fun, much-needed night out with her best friend seems to be rapidly falling to pieces before it has even begun, her optimistic mood and hope for things to finally be on the upswing shattering so quickly, replaced by this feeling that she can never seem to shake loose when she knows there will be likely physical contact with a man, and it baffles her how she possibly could have thought this was a good idea.

"Are you okay?" Olivia says softly into her ear. "We don't have to stay if you think this is going to be too much for you right now."

Amanda grits her teeth as a group of middle aged men squeeze right by her, each one brushing up against her side, the material of her dress swaying slightly with the repeated movement, and she presses herself closer to the taller woman, Olivia's arm finding its way around her waist and resting there with a firm hand. "Yes, I'm okay," she mutters with a courage she doesn't feel.

"Are you sure?" Olivia sounds very concerned now, her tone not the least bit convinced, and Amanda realizes that she has stopped short in her tracks and is standing there rigidly, her hand slippery with sweat and trembling hard in the older woman's grasp.

"I'm s-sure." Her words come out in a stutter and she squeezes her eyes shut as another group of people push their way past them, jostling roughly with arms and elbows, and someone's hand swipes against the lower part of her dress.

Amanda hurriedly presses her fingers against the material, smoothing the garment down and trying to hold it in place against her thigh with one hand, the fingers of her other hand now clutching onto Olivia's in a death grip, blinking hard to try to keep her focus, and just like that, she is not there anymore. The noise of the theater fades away, along with the dense crowd of people, Olivia disappearing from her side, and there is only one person here with her now.

She is in the alley with the shadowy man of her nightmares, the man who had hurt her, the man who had threatened to take her away in the car with his friend; and the warm, pleasant weather is gone, replaced with a drenching rain and a grotesque smell, rotting garbage and cigarette smoke mingling in the air to create a foul, disgusting odor. Her senses seem to have heightened to an alarming degree and she is experiencing everything in such an acute, bewildering fashion, the scene seemingly so entrenched in reality and she knows this is not a dream, that she is not asleep. He takes a menacing step toward her and she has both hands clenched onto the hem of her dress now, desperately trying to hold it down and keep it in place, not wanting his hands to wander underneath, his fingers digging into private places, desperate to put a stop to the pain and the humiliation that is sure to come.

The man is advancing upon her now, hand reaching out of the darkness toward her, and Amanda blinks hard again, the alley fading away and the movie theater coming into sharper focus, the laughter and conversation sounding loud in her ears again, the smell of popcorn drifting beneath her nose, the warm night breeze lifting her hair gently, and Olivia's hand clutching tightly onto her own, the other wrapped firmly around her waist, alarmed voice speaking right into her ear. She feels like she is coming out of a stupor, a trance, and is perplexed and disorientated, not comprehending what is happening, and she can't hear what the older woman is saying, the words sounding like gibberish, mixing in with the discussions of the dozens of other people surrounding them.

"Where did you go, Liv?" she murmurs in confusion, her hands sliding up the older woman's arms to grasp firmly onto the sleeves of her trench coat, titling her face up to Olivia's. "You were here and then you weren't."

"Amanda, it's okay, sweetheart," Olivia is saying in that lilting, soothing voice she uses with the victims in their line of work, but she can detect a slight undercurrent of panic in her tone, and she feels her boss moving them away from the crowd, the people thinning out as they stride hurriedly down the sidewalk and come to a halt beneath a streetlight, the sudden harsh brightness lighting up the worry on the older woman's face, Olivia's brows pinched tightly together, her mouth still moving in a rapid string of sentences, and Amanda finds herself sporting a matching frown, trying to catch the other woman's words. "You're having a flashback, honey. You're safe, okay? There are no men around you anymore. I moved you away from them."

"Liv," she whimpers, that confusion and unreality still clinging to her, the world whirling in a dizzying kaleidoscope of color and sound, her grasp tightening on the other woman's coat. "I'm scared. I want to go home."

"That's exactly what we're doing, sweetheart," Olivia assures her, one hand against Amanda's cheek now, bracing her head firmly in her grip, concerned dark gaze probing her own intently. "I don't know if you're okay to walk, though. You seem really unsteady on your feet all of a sudden."

"I think I'm going to pass out," Amanda answers faintly, and she sways momentarily, wishing she had eaten more that day, her ankles feeling like they aren't being properly supported in the high heels she had chosen to wear with this dress, and her outfit in suddenly at the surface of her thoughts again, very aware of how vulnerable she is in these clothes, and what a huge mistake it was to leave the apartment dressed like this.

She can't seem to stop the constant whimpering that is emitting from her mouth now, her voice coming out in a whine when she speaks. "Liv, I don't like what I'm wearing. I need to get changed, okay? Right now. I need this dress off right now. I'm not safe, I'm not safe like this."

"Okay, honey, we're going to get a cab," Olivia says, both arms sliding around her now, pressing Amanda against her chest and holding there with a firm hand as she hails a cab with the other. "I don't want you to pass out on the sidewalk, so we can't walk back, alright? And you can get changed as soon as we get home, but you just need to hold on a little longer, okay?"

Amanda is tugging at her dress with alarmed, fumbling fingers now, yanking at the material, trying to get it away from her body. "Liv, I don't like it," she mutters. "I don't like this dress anymore. I want it off, I want it off right now." There is a hysteria rising inside her now, a desperate need to get this offending article of clothing off of her body, so no one will think it is an invitation to touch her in a way she doesn't want, in a way that will hurt and humiliate her, leaving her begging and crying, pleading for it to all stop.

A cab pulls up to the curb in front of them, breaks squealing slightly as the vehicles comes to a stop, and Amanda finds herself being shepherded quickly inside, sliding across the cracked vinyl backseat, Olivia sitting down next to her with an ungraceful thump, rattling off the address of Amanda's apartment. She is immediately pulled into the other woman's embrace again, tucked up against Olivia's chest, a cool hand smoothing along her cheek and brushing the hair back from her face, soft shushing sounds emitting from the other woman's lips, which are pressed to the top of her head.

Amanda realizes that she can't seem to be quiet, soft whimpering sounds and rambling, incoherent words tumbling from her mouth, and that alarm which had been ratcheting higher and higher suddenly explodes when she meets the dark eyes of a man in the rear view mirror. "No, Liv, we need to get out," she pleads, reaching across the other woman to try to wrench the door open. "I don't want to be in here. I don't want him touching me." Her eyes widen at the man's intense stare in the mirror and she is back in that alley again for a split second, before recognizing her surroundings and burying her head in Olivia's chest, stifling a sob. "He's going to reach under my dress."

"Excuse me?" a gruff, male voice says, and Amanda lets out a moan, squeezing her eyes shut, hands sliding beneath the older woman's open trench coat, grasping on tightly to the soft red sweater. "What the hell is she talking about?"

"It's okay," Olivia replies in firm, calm tone, trying to keep Amanda from reaching for the door again. "She's not feeling well right now. Please drive quickly, alright?" Her fingers are threading through Amanda's long blonde hair, nails scraping soothingly against her scalp.

"I'm not going to speed," the man states, confusion piercing his tone. "I'll drive what the speed limit allows. I don't want to get pulled over. I just got a speeding ticket last week."

"It's fine, I'm with the police," Olivia replies, voice perfectly pleasant, but with that slight undercurrent of steel that usually makes people sit up and take notice, eager to do as they are told. "If there's a problem on the way to our destination, it'll be taken care of."

There is silence in the cab for a moment, as if the man is trying to decide whether or not he believes her, and then a murmured "Okay, no problem" before they pick up speed.

Amanda is shuddering in Olivia's arms, afraid to open her eyes and find herself in a place she doesn't want to be, and the other woman's lips are pressed into the top of her head again, her boss' hand slipping beneath her jacket to trace her fingers over her back. "Listen to my voice, sweetheart. I know you're having some flashbacks, but I am right here beside you and I'm not going to let go of you. You're safe and no one else is going to touch you, okay?"

"I don't want anyone to put their hands underneath my dress," she whispers. "I shouldn't have worn this. It was a mistake. Now I'm going to get hurt."

"Honey, no one is going to do that, I promise," Olivia says softly, and that firm, steel tone is gone, replaced by what sounds like a hint of tears. "No one is going to hurt you. You're safe and sound with me in here, and in a few minutes we'll be back up in your apartment. We're going to get you into your pajamas and tucked into bed, okay? You don't have to wear that dress for much longer, and you never have to wear it again, if that's what you want."

"Okay, Liv," Amanda whimpers, pressing her face into the other woman's neck and inhaling that comforting scent of vanilla perfume.

Olivia murmurs quietly to her for the rest of the short ride home, hands smoothing over her hair and across her back, Amanda clinging desperately to her, and when the cab screeches to a stop outside her building, the older woman tosses some money at the driver, saying a quick thank you, and helping Amanda out onto the sidewalk. They make it back upstairs to her apartment without incident, lucky enough to get the elevator to themselves, and by the time they burst through the door, Amanda is yanking off her jacket and reaching around to grasp at the zipper on her back, fingers fumbling and slippery with sweat, her body wracked with tremors.

"Liv, help me!" she gasps out. "I want it off! Get it off of me!"

"Hold on, sweetheart, just hold on." She feels Olivia's hands around her elbows, herding her down the hallway to the bedroom, and then halting them in their tracks, pulling hurriedly at the zipper on the back of the dress.

"Hurry," Amanda pleads, and she can hear raindrops pelting the windows now, coughing as the cigarette smoke chokes her. "Make it stop. _Please_."

"The zipper is stuck," Olivia mutters, a twinge of panic in her tone now, and Amanda whirls around, her own hand thrusting behind her back again, trying to get ahold of the tiny piece of metal.

"Liv, _please_ ," she begs frantically, tears brimming in her eyes and clinging to her lashes now, scrabbling at the material with insistent, clumsy fingers. "Help me!"

"Okay, raise your arms up," Olivia says firmly, and Amanda complies, the older woman reaching down to take hold of the hem of the dress in both hands and pulling it up over her head, tossing it to the floor in a heap, and leaving her in a light pink matching bra and panties set. "There, it's off, it's gone, you don't have to wear it anymore."

Amanda stares at her gratefully for a moment, breathing a sharp sigh of relief, and then covers her face with her hands, bursting into tears, unable to comprehend how this night had gone so bad in such a short amount of time.

"Oh, baby, come here, I've got you, you're safe." She feels Olivia's arms around her, holding her tightly against her chest for a brief moment, before maneuvering them towards the bed and tucking them both underneath the covers. "Just take a minute to calm down and then we'll get you into some pajamas."

The older woman is holding Amanda in her lap, rocking her as she sobs, and Amanda can feel her boss' body shaking lightly as if Olivia is crying as well, and for several minutes there is no conversation, the other woman continuing to rock her back and forth comfortingly, her own broken sobs punctuating the air from time to time, and slight sniffles sounding from beneath her.

"I'm sorry, Liv," she finally manages to croak, raising her head from Olivia's shoulder to meet the older woman's watery gaze, tears slipping one after the other from her boss' dark eyes. "I'm sorry I ruined our night."

"Honey, you didn't ruin anything," Olivia whispers, blinking hard as if to ward off more tears, and reaching up to swipe her fingers gently beneath Amanda's own watery eyes.

"But I did," Amanda insists softly, dragging a bare arm across her face to try to rid herself of the tears that won't seem to stop falling. "I wanted to take you out for a nice evening to say sorry for everything I've done. I just wanted you to have fun with me and enjoy the movie." Her face crumples, another sob dragging out from between her lips. "You said I had stopped trying, that I had given up, and I wanted you to be proud of me for getting out of the apartment and trying something that's so hard for me to do. I don't want you to be disappointed in me anymore."

"Sweetheart." Olivia's voice is trembling strongly and she is crying in earnest now, Amanda's heart breaking at the sight, and she inhales a deep, shuddering breath, stroking her hand softly against the older woman's cheek, wanting to soothe her. "I don't care about some stupid movie, okay?" Olivia says quietly. "The only thing I care about is _you_. A nice evening out was the last thing on my mind as soon as you started having those flashbacks. I'm so sorry, Amanda, I really am. I shouldn't have said those things to you earlier today. I was just so shocked and angry about the drinking and the things you were saying, and I flew off the handle."

"It's okay, Liv," Amanda whispers, wiping another tear off the older woman's cheek. "Everything you said was true. It needed to be said. I've screwed up a lot this week, especially with you. I shouldn't have ignored you and I shouldn't have said the things I did. I never would have said those things if I hadn't tried to stop my panic attack with vodka." She hesitates for a moment. "And I shouldn't have worn that stupid dress, trying to be someone I'm not."

She is aware of Olivia frowning at her now. "What do you mean, trying to be someone you're not?"

"Someone who is capable of leaving the house without having a meltdown because of what she is wearing, someone who can wear a simple article of clothing without thinking she is going to be attacked," Amanda mumbles, looking away, not able to meet her boss' gaze now. "Someone who tries hard in every aspect of her life, and is pretty, and worthy of your time and attention. I wanted to prove that I could be normal, that I'm capable of more than what I have been lately. And I wanted to look nice for you, Liv, since I always look like shit, since I don't try hard enough and I've given up on everything this week. I'm just ashamed that I've turned into this ugly, disgusting excuse of a human being, who fucks up every single situation."

"Amanda!" Olivia is aghast, and she feels the older woman's hands grasping onto the sides of her face, forcing her to meet her boss' intense dark gaze, eyes locking together. "Please don't say those things about yourself. You may think those things are true, but I certainly don't! I could not disagree more. You slipped up this week, you had a momentary setback, and you're going to work hard to fix it. That doesn't make you a bad person and it doesn't mean you fuck up every situation you're in. And you are not ugly or disgusting; there is not an ugly or disgusting bone in your body. You are beautiful, both inside and out, even if you can't recognize that in yourself." Olivia is staring at her intently, and removes one of the hands from Amanda's face to press against her mouth, muffling a sob. "Please don't ever think that I share those feelings, sweetheart, because that couldn't be farther from the truth."

Amanda stares back at the older woman in silence, her eyes widening momentarily at Olivia's anguish, heart shattering at the small, strangled cry that breaks free from Olivia's lips, both of their faces awash in tears, and the only thing she can think to do is to make it all stop, to try to put an end to the other woman's pain, this pain that she herself has caused, her boss seemingly devastated on her behalf, for Amanda's suffering, for her agony and torment and sadness; and without giving it a second thought, she leans forward slightly, pressing her lips against Olivia's.

The older woman goes completely still for a moment, and Amanda feels a sharp spike of fear before Olivia responds, kissing her back fervently, and her arms are winding their way around her boss' back, Olivia's fingers tangling in her long hair, kissing frantically and sobbing into each others' mouths, both of them holding on so tightly, as if they are afraid the other will disappear, the sudden frenzied need threatening to swallow them both whole.

Amanda is overcome with a deep, intense variety of emotions, and that feeling she has now come to recognize beyond a shadow of a doubt, and she pulls away slightly, leaning back to look the other woman in the eye again, desperate to finally let go of her denial and get everything out into the open. Her limbs are trembling violently with anticipation, the tears still streaming in rivulets from her eyes, and she opens her mouth to speak, to let loose the words that need to be said; and despite the fact that Olivia is holding her so tenderly in her lap, assuring her that she is beautiful, and that the other woman has just kissed her back with a surprising passion, she is terrified of her boss' reaction, her heart racing out of control, sweat blooming on her hairline. She braces herself for what may come, petrified in a way she has never been before, but takes in a deep, cleansing breath, the words spilling from between her lips in a soft, whispered tone.

"I love you, Olivia."


	16. Chapter 16

There is dead silence in the room as Amanda and Olivia stare intently at one another, each woman unblinking, tears streaking their faces, the quiet stretching out so long between them that the moment begins to turn awkward, and Amanda has a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, a tendril of dread unfurling to consume her entire being. Her heart is beating sickeningly in her chest, as she is struck with the realization that she has made a terrible mistake; that the older woman couldn't possibly feel the same way about someone so damaged, someone who is quite conceivably beyond help and repair, someone who couldn't possibly be her equal, and the desperate urge to flee rises up within her.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Amanda whispers in a panic, sliding hastily off her boss' lap, making a quick exit toward the bedroom door, hoping her violently shaking legs will support her. "I shouldn't have said that, Liv. Just forget I said anything, okay? _Shit_."

"Amanda, wait-"

She ignores Olivia's reply, and hurries down the hall, making a beeline toward the door of the apartment, momentarily forgetting that she is in her underwear once again, the anger and embarrassment coursing through her system now, each emotion seemingly competing for attention to see which one will explode out of her first. Amanda curses herself for falling so hard for this woman; for someone who is her superior in every sense of the word, for giving so many bits and pieces of herself away over the past several weeks that Olivia now has her whole heart, the intense love she feels for the other woman threatening to consume her. She has her hand on the knob of the door when she feels herself being grabbed gently from behind, the older woman's arms sliding around her bare waist, molding herself into Amanda's back, chin on her shoulder, lips right next to her ear.

"Where do you think you're going?" Olivia asks softly, and Amanda feels a shiver run down her spine at the quiet intensity of the other woman's voice, sounding huskier and more sultry than she is used to, Olivia's warm breath right on her neck.

"I need to go..." She trails off, closing her eyes tightly, feeling very overwhelmed now, the tears still dripping down her cheeks, and she knows her carefully applied makeup has likely smeared everywhere by this point, and she is once again left looking silly and immature in front of Olivia.

"Go where, sweetheart?" the older woman answers with a light chuckle, a hint of amusement sounding through her tears and concern, and Amanda can feel her boss trembling with emotion behind her, and she is terrified that she is about to be rejected and cast aside just like she should be; that Olivia is gearing up to break her heart, and this is the reason the other woman seems to be shuddering just as much as she herself is.

"You seem to have this disconcerting habit of trying to leave the apartment when you're in your underwear, Amanda. I think this is a habit we have to try hard to break. You need to think before you act, honey," Olivia adds quietly, and Amanda feels the embrace around her become more firm, body tingling in places where the older woman is pressed against her, and she tries desperately to ignore how good it feels to be in her boss' arms, as if she belongs there and nowhere else, how it seems like Olivia was made to fit against her, as if she is Amanda's other half and they now make a whole.

"I can't think around you, Liv," she murmurs, reaching up to cover her eyes, heart pounding frantically in her chest, torn between that urgent need to flee and the even stronger need to turn around and kiss the other woman senseless. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm so sorry."

"Amanda, you're giving me some mixed signals here, honey," Olivia replies dryly, that slight amusement still in her tone, mingling in with worry and something else, something Amanda can't quite identify. "First you tell me you love me, and now you're trying to leave the apartment and can't stop apologizing." There is another light chuckle. "I'm a little confused here."

"I shouldn't have said anything," Amanda mutters in shame. "I just couldn't hold it in any longer. I know it was wrong of me, I know I'm such a wreck and my life is a disaster, and you're still trying to get over what happened with Tucker; that you still have feelings for him..."

"Do I?" Olivia answers softly, thumbs stroking soothingly up and down Amanda's ribs, tracing small circles against the goosebumps on her chilled skin. "I do have feelings, sweetheart, but not for him. I have feelings for someone else." There is a brief pause, and she can hear Olivia take a deep breath behind her. "There's this small blonde woman I've become very attached to and think about constantly and want to be with every single second of every singe day." Olivia's voice lowers to a whisper. "I don't think I can live without her, but she's currently trying to escape her own apartment to get away from me, and saying she's sorry over and over again after telling me she loves me, so I don't really know what's going on or how I'm supposed to feel about this..."

Amanda lets loose with a sudden giggle, a feeling of warmth and relief flooding through her, the slight hope that maybe the inevitable crushing rejection will not come after all; the incredulous thought occurring to her that perhaps Olivia somehow feels the same way, although she is incapable of understanding how this can possibly be. Despite her extreme skepticism, that slight hope is now blooming inside to encompass her entire being, and she waits with baited breath for the older woman to continue speaking, her racing heart refusing to slow, the jittering of her limbs even more pronounced now, causing Olivia's hold around her to become impossibly tighter, Amanda clutching onto her hands with trembling fingers to keep from sliding onto the floor in a boneless heap. The tears are still flowing continuously down her cheeks, her emotions so jumbled together she can barely form a coherent thought, let alone a complete sentence, so she just giggles again, the tears coming even harder now, and it occurs to her that she might actually be losing her mind.

"Can you look at me, honey?" Olivia says quietly, and Amanda feels herself being turned around, the other woman's hands gently holding onto the sides of her face, her heart aching when she sees that her boss is still crying, but Olivia is smiling through her tears. The taller woman leans over to place her forehead against Amanda's, both of them resting there for a moment, just breathing each other in, before raising their heads to look at one another again, and she is sure her thundering heart grinds to a sudden halt when Olivia speaks her next words.

"I love you too, Amanda."

That dead silence stretches out between them once again, just like it had after Amanda's own confession, and they stare intensely at one another, brown eyes boring into blue, Amanda's brow puckering in consternation, and all she wants to do is return Olivia's sentiment, to say it back yet again and just keep repeating it over and over, that overwhelming feeling of love and elation threatening to burst forth out of her, unable to be contained, but the shock and disbelief of her boss' response seems to have rendered her entirely mute.

When the quiet hush continues for several seconds, that stillness unfurling among them and beginning to take an awkward turn like it had in Amanda's bedroom, she swallows hard, trying to get a handle on all of the different emotions swirling around in her brain, and finally manages to locate her voice. When she is able to speak, the sound is shaky and hesitant, and the single, pathetic word that emits from her mouth makes her wince and bite down hard on her lower lip.

"Why?" Amanda whispers, her eyes so flooded with tears that they are almost blinding her, and she blinks furiously to stem the tide, afraid that this outpouring of emotion is never going to stop, her body being pulled in so many different directions from one second to the next, that she does not know how she is supposed to feel.

"'Why'?" Olivia echoes softly, her eyebrows raised quizzically as she continues to stare hard at Amanda, dark eyes open wide in surprise, tears clinging to her long lashes, and Amanda finds herself engulfed in the taller woman's arms once more, and they are embracing each other tightly, heads buried in one anothers' shoulders. "Do you not believe me, sweetheart?" Olivia whispers in her ear, a twinge of sadness in her tone now. "I will list each and every single reason why I love you, if that's what you need to hear, but it could take the rest of the day, because it's a very long list."

"I just..." Amanda trails off, pressing her damp face into Olivia's warm neck, that utterly stunned disbelief still wrapped around her like a second skin. "I guess I just don't understand why. And when you didn't answer right away, I thought I had made a mistake, that you weren't going to say it back...but it would have made sense if you didn't..."

"Oh, honey." Amanda is aware of Olivia pulling back slightly to shrug out of the shoes and trench coat that she hasn't had time to remove yet, as the chaos and desperation of needing to get Amanda out of her dress after the multitude of flashbacks she had been experiencing had taken precedence over anything else, and she feels the older woman draping the coat around her shivering form, safely cocooned within the soft, warm material, the garment smelling like Olivia.

"Come here, babe." Her boss leads her over to the couch, sitting down on the cushions and pulling Amanda into her lap once again, tucking the coat more snugly around her shaking frame, and then Olivia's arms are banding firmly around her ribs, the rocking motion beginning once more, as if trying to lull Amanda into a state of calm so they can finally talk about everything that has needed to be said for quite some time now.

"I'm sorry I hesitated before responding," Olivia says quietly, knuckles brushing gently against Amanda's cheek and then trailing down to swipe over her lower lip where Amanda had bitten down yet again. "You are not the only one who is a little overwhelmed here, sweetheart. It just took a minute for it to register, okay? I have been trying to work up the courage to say it to you, figuring out how and when I wanted to say it, so it caught me a bit off guard when you said it first."

"Really?" Amanda asks softly, a part of her still unable to fully grasp that this is actually happening, that they are having this conversation, and she leans back to look up at the taller woman, Olivia's misty eyes penetrating into her own. A shiver runs through her again, as no one in her life has ever looked at her this way before, with that all-knowing gaze like the older woman can see right through to her soul, and Amanda's brow crinkles, chest tightening with emotion, because she can see it in Olivia's eyes now, that look of pure love. She suddenly knows without a doubt that her boss is telling her the truth, and even if she still doesn't understand it, the notion takes her breath away, that this woman can possibly see through all the trauma and despair and darkness, and find something in her that is worthwhile, something in her to love.

"Yes, really," Olivia whispers, jostling her lightly, like she is trying to shake some sense into Amanda. "Why is it so hard for you to believe this, honey? You really have no idea how amazing you are, do you? How courageous and smart and passionate and kind and beautiful you are? How every time you come so close to that edge and it looks like you're going to give up on everything, on your entire recovery, and that I've even gone so far as to accuse you of giving up, you prove me wrong?" She must notice the sudden frown on Amanda's face because she continues. "Look how hard you tried tonight, sweetheart. After the awful week you've had, after this terrible day, when it looked like you were just going to throw it all away, you picked yourself back up and took yourself out of your comfort zone, out of your safe place, so you could treat me to a night out because you thought it would make me happy, even if meant putting yourself in a difficult position and going somewhere that scared the hell out of you."

An incredulous chuckle slips from between Amanda's lips. "But Liv, this entire evening was a disaster," she protests. "Look where we are right now, look what we're doing. We should be in that movie theater, laughing and having a good time, not hiding here in the apartment, crying and wasting the night."

Olivia quirks an eyebrow at her. "I wouldn't call this 'wasting the night'. We just admitted that we love each other. Does that sound like a waste to you?"

A deep blush spreads across Amanda's cheeks and a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "I didn't mean it like that, Liv," she replies softly. "I mean that I screwed everything up, once again. That my issues were front and center, as usual, and I ruined everything, just like I always do."

"You don't always ruin everything," Olivia says gently, stroking a hand down Amanda's cheek and brushing her hair over her shoulder. "But I think you have to acknowledge that you need some more help with this, honey. These things that are happening to you are scary and they're not going away. It is a terrifying thing to watch, Amanda, to see you go through this and know how horribly you're suffering and not be able to do much to help you." Olivia pauses for a moment and blinks hard, like she is trying to not cry again. "I think we should take the weekend to just relax and talk and spend some time together, and then come Monday morning, you need to really try hard to pick yourself back up again, sweetheart. The Gamblers Anonymous meetings are one thing, but it is absolutely imperative that you go back to see Dr. Lindstrom. You need to tell him what happened tonight." There is another short pause a slight hesitation. "Honey, maybe you need more specialized help in this area, something more than he is capable of providing for you."

Amanda frowns, that uneasy feeling taking over once again. "What kind of specialized help?"

"I don't know," Olivia replies softly, her hands underneath the coat, rubbing soothing circles across Amanda's bare back. "That's for him to decide, honey. When he knows everything that has been happening since your last appointment with him, he can make that decision; whether it is still beneficial for you to continue seeing him, or whether it would be better for you to see someone else, someone who can provide more intensive treatment to help you deal with this trauma." The older woman's hands are back up against Amanda's face now, cupping her cheeks, thumbs stroking back and forth along her temples. "Amanda, I'm going to admit that I'm scared for you, honey. The things that have been happening lately are truly terrifying, and while you seem to have been able to get some of your issues under control, like the gambling urges and the need to lash out physically to protect yourself while you're having a nightmare, the other things seem to be getting worse. I hate seeing you go through this, and it kills me to know how bad this is for you, how much you are hurting, how scared you must be."

"I don't want you to worry about me, Liv," Amanda whispers, her heart aching once again at causing the other woman pain. "You have enough on your plate to deal with. I'll be okay."

Olivia gives a short laugh, a slightly brittle edge to the sound. "You are not okay, Amanda," she states firmly. "You haven't been okay for a long time now. And of course I'm going to worry about you, honey. You're my colleague and my best friend and the woman I've fallen in love with you. Do you think I'm going to sit back and do nothing just because I have 'enough on my plate' as you put it? _You_ are my number one priority, Amanda, and to be perfectly honest, I probably spend way more time thinking about you than I should. You've been on my mind a lot these days."

Amanda smiles faintly at the older woman's confession. "You're _all_ I think about, Liv," she admits softly. "I promise I'll tell Dr. Lindstrom everything, okay? And I promise I'll do everything I can to get better and I'll stop slipping up. I don't want to screw up your life anymore than I already have."

"Amanda, you are not screwing up my life," Olivia says quietly, and a tear slips from her eye to trail slowly down her cheek. "I wouldn't be here with you right now if I didn't want to be. And I want you to get better for _yourself_ , not for me or anyone else. And it's okay to slip up from time to time, it's normal and it's going to happen. Just as long as you keep picking yourself back up every single time, no matter what, no matter how hard things are. You have to get back up. _Always_."

"Okay," Amanda murmurs, looking away now, gaze fixed on her lap, that feeling of being completely overwhelmed beginning to encompass her again, as all she wants to feel is the elated joy that is trying to push its way up through the darkness and shadows, wants to bask in the knowledge that the woman she is in love with actually loves her back, but her own issues are once again rearing their ugly head and shoving aside anything good in her life, demanding attention and taking time away from the only person she wants to focus on, the one person who is of the utmost importance to her.

"And one more thing," Olivia says gently, her hand grasping Amanda's chin and lifting sightly so that their eyes are meeting each other again. "I don't want you to break your promise to me ever again, Amanda. Are we clear on that?"

"What?" Amanda replies, her brow wrinkling in confusion. "What are you talking about? What promise?"

"The promise you made when I agreed to stay with you, about not drinking or gambling or engaging in any other self destructive behavior when things are bad. Remember you promised that you would tell either me or someone else if you felt like doing any of those things?" Olivia is gazing at her steadily now, and Amanda fights the urge to look away again, feeling a slight curl of resentment.

"Well, isn't that kind of a moot point now that you've moved out, Liv?" she mutters, her frown deepening. "And I've already apologized for today and you told me I was forgiven, so why are you bringing it up again?"

"Amanda..." Olivia trails off warningly.

"What?" she shoots back, eyebrows raised now. "You did move out, didn't you?"

"Okay, we're not doing this again," Olivia replies sternly. "As I told you before, I'm not taking the blame for doing something that you asked me to do, Amanda. And you are forgiven, but your promise does not become moot just because I'm not physically here or because you're upset with me. There are other people you could have talked to; Fin, Carisi, Dr. Lindstrom, someone from your support group, but you chose not to. I don't want to have to worry about you doing these kinds of things whenever I'm not around."

Amanda heaves a disgruntled sigh and starts to slide off of Olivia's lap, but the other woman tightens her arms around her, holding on more firmly. "Honey, stop trying to get away from me," she says softly. "We need to talk about these things; you _know_ we do."

"I'm so sick of all of this heavy, intense stuff," Amanda replies forlornly, reaching up to cover her eyes with her hands. "It's too much sometimes, Liv. It would be nice to just be happy for once. I'd rather just talk about us, about how much we love each other."

She hears Olivia's slight chuckle, and her lip curls up at the corner in response, as she allows the older woman to peel her hands away from her face, Olivia regarding her seriously now. "Amanda, I love you more than anyone I've ever known, okay?" she says softly, thumb coming up to smooth over Amanda's suddenly raised eyebrows. "Don't look so stunned, sweetheart. I love you and I want you to be okay, and part of being okay is talking to someone when things are really bad, instead of just turning to the self destructive behavior. And I still don't even know what happened; you haven't told me."

"And I'm not going to," Amanda murmurs, a blush of shame creeping across her cheeks as she remembers briefly losing Olivia's ring and tearing apart her bedroom trying to find it, turning to alcohol when she couldn't get her panic attack under control and locating the ring right after she had become stinking drunk, and suddenly finding the whole situation quite comical until Olivia had come in and laid into her, sparking the most vicious fight they'd ever had. "You don't need to know everything, okay? Some things are private."

"Did you have a nightmare?" Olivia questions softly. "Is that why you felt the need to drink this morning?"

Amanda heaves another harsh sigh and fixes the older woman with a glare. "Liv, you are really damn nosy sometimes, you know that? You need to learn when to back off."

Olivia shrugs, appearing quite unapologetic. "I have a hard time backing off with you, Amanda," she admits quietly. "And I think I backed off enough when I moved out like you asked me to, even though every instinct I had was telling me to stay. That was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, just leaving you alone here." The older woman quirks an eyebrow at her, a hint of amusement in her expression now. "And Amanda, if we're being perfectly honest with each other here, you have to admit that you are the last person who should be accusing someone else of being nosy."

Amanda stares at her for a moment, knowing she is right, and her gaze softens, picking up Olivia's hand in her own and lacing their fingers together. "Last night was awful, okay, Liv?" she whispers. "I had a really bad nightmare and I thought you were sleeping behind me, but it turned out to be someone else, someone I couldn't see, but could only hear. I thought someone was in my apartment, but there wasn't, of course. I was holding your ring and looking at pictures of you on my phone to try to calm down, when I dropped both of them and accidentally called you. I didn't realize until the next day that I had never picked the ring back up off the floor, and I thought I had lost it."

She blinks back a sudden wave of tears as she recalls the utter and complete terror of losing the most prized possession of the woman she loves, and how shattered Olivia would have been to realize that Amanda couldn't be trusted enough to protect this little piece of Olivia's mother, this childhood ring that she had gifted to Amanda to make her feel safe. "I couldn't get my panic under control because the one thing I needed to help make it stop was the exact thing I had lost. It happened so fast and I felt like I was suffocating, like I was dying..."

The tears are streaming down her face again as the anxiety threatens to make a return appearance just from reliving the memory of her extreme panic attack, and she struggles out of Olivia's grasp, not able to face the other woman's wrath at the lost ring, even though it has since been found, the guilt piercing through her that she is not even capable of keeping this tiny part of the woman she loves safe. Olivia reaches out for her, murmuring for her to come sit back down, and Amanda sidesteps away from her boss, turning to leave the room, and scraping her bare thigh against the armrest of the couch, the material scratching roughly across the healing burn marks. A whimper of pain emits from her mouth, and the tears won't stop now, the overwhelming events and emotions of the day threatening to crash down upon her.

Olivia grabs her gently around the waist, and she sags against the other woman, overcome with frustration, wondering when this will let up, when everything will start to feel normal again, when she won't be bogged down by all this heavy darkness, a small part of her coming to accept that maybe this is just how things are now, that this is how they are meant to stay.

"I'm sorry, baby," Olivia whispers, holding onto her from behind again, her lips next to her ear. "I shouldn't have pushed you to talk, but it's hard to know what to do sometimes; when to help you and when to leave you alone. I'm not mad about the ring, okay? It was just an accident and you found it. And even if you had actually lost it, you're still more important than a ring." She pauses, and Amanda feels a soft touch against her thigh, Olivia's fingers skimming lightly over her skin, a sudden shiver running through her body. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Amanda nods, and grits out "Stupid burn marks" between clenched teeth, the physical pain now mixing in with the guilt that is still wrapped around her; that Olivia is completely downplaying the incident, acting as if her mother's ring is unimportant, when Amanda knows that couldn't be further from the truth.

"Come here, honey, just sit down and try to relax with me, okay? You're getting yourself all worked up again," Olivia says softly, removing her trench coat from the couch and gently pushing Amanda back down onto the cushions, sitting down beside her and covering them both with the blanket that is draped across the pillows.

"Sorry, Liv, I'm just having a hard day," Amanda sighs, scrubbing her hands over her face and likely smearing her makeup even more, as there are dark streaks painted across her palms when she pulls them away.

"I know you are," Olivia murmurs, reaching over to swipe her fingers across Amanda's cheeks, cleaning the smudges away. "I'm sorry to keep pushing so hard with you, sweetie, I really am. I know you're tired and overwhelmed and you need a break, but I just don't want you going down the same bad road I did, okay? I want better for you."

Amanda turns to look at the other woman, Olivia's eyes resembling liquid pools of dark chocolate in the dim light of the living room, shining with love and sadness, and she strokes her hand through the older woman's soft brown tresses, the strands slipping through her fingers like silk. "I know you had some trouble with alcohol after what happened with Lewis," she whispers. "I shouldn't have brought it up earlier today, Liv. I'm really sorry about that; it was a shitty thing to do."

"It's okay," Olivia replies gently, moving closer to Amanda on the couch, a hand resting on her thigh beneath the blanket, fingers stroking ever so lightly around the burn marks, trying to soothe the pain. "Honey, the reason I come down so hard on you sometimes, the reason I waver back and forth on what to do, is because I'm scared that you're going down a path you won't be able to come back from. I don't want you to keep losing pieces of yourself to the terrible things that are happening to you, to the way you choose to respond to them sometimes, and I need you to keep fighting against that urge to give up, to keep pulling yourself up like you always end up doing." Olivia's voice breaks. "Amanda, I just want you to be okay. That's all I want, honey, I just want you to be feeling well, for the monsters in your head to stop tormenting you. I want you to stop hurting so much. I just want you to have peace."

The older woman pauses to take a deep breath, and Amanda's tears are still falling freely as she listens to her boss speak, the pain and anguish in Olivia's tone breaking her heart, and she shifts closer to her under the blanket, turning onto her side to rest her head against the taller woman's shoulder, sliding an arm around that soft red sweater, and draping a leg across Olivia's thigh. She feels that intense need to soothe again, like she had in the bedroom when Olivia had broken down because of Amanda's suffering, feels the need to ease the pain of this woman who is so distraught over an agony that is not her own, who has chosen to carry Amanda's burden with her, has held on tight right from the beginning and has not let go, has never given up on her, no matter how far she has fallen.

The wave of love that overcomes Amanda seems to take her breath away, and she reaches an arm up out of the blanket to caress Olivia's cheek and guide her lips down to her own, pressing against them gently, trying to convey the depth of feeling she has for everything Olivia has done for her, for everything Olivia continues to do; that firm knowledge that she has someone in her corner who will never stop fighting for her, who will never leave her, who only wants the best for her, and she is overwhelmed once again, deepening the kiss and pouring every ounce of feeling into the gesture.

Olivia kisses Amanda back, and for a few minutes they become lost in each other again, pouring their grief and anguish and love into the other, arms winding around backs, fingers sliding up to tangle into hair. The kiss becomes more heated, the physical need they have for one another beginning to outweigh the emotional heaviness of the conversation, hands wandering underneath clothing and trailing across skin pebbled with goosebumps, and Amanda can't remember the last time she has felt this way, so overwhelmed by and consumed with another person, the love she has for Olivia obliterating all coherent thought.

Finally they reluctantly pull away from each other, simultaneously seeming to realize that they are losing control and need to calm down, resting their foreheads together again, panting breathlessly into each others' mouths, arms looped around one anothers' necks. Amanda feels a hint of disappointment as she finds herself coming down from this brief high, craving so much more, the thought of being separated from Olivia once again just too much to bear and beyond what she is capable of handling right now.

"Liv," she whispers urgently, running her fingertips gently over the bottom of Olivia's lip, the older woman staring back at her, the intense love radiating out of Olivia's liquid dark gaze startling her for a moment and causing her to falter somewhat. "Do you..." She trails off for a moment, that feeling of silliness and embarrassment enveloping her once more, that she is too immature, too needy; but she just can't let the older woman leave again, so desperate to have Olivia there with her, that sharp regret still lingering that she had ever asked her to leave in the first place. "I don't want you to go home, Liv," she admits softly,and then hesitates again. "Do you want to have a sleepover tonight?"

Olivia laughs lightly, pulling Amanda back into her embrace and holding on tightly, rocking them both back and forth, the older woman's hands sliding up to comb through her rumpled blonde locks. "Yes, we can have a sleepover," she assures her with a slight chuckle. "And Amanda, I will never go home again, if that's what you want. Your home is my home, if you'll let me stay."


	17. Chapter 17

Amanda is laying in bed with her eyes squeezed shut and her fingers shoved as far as possible into her ears. It is early Saturday morning, the sun just beginning to peek its way out of the clouds, promising a beautiful day outside, but inside her bedroom is quite a different story. The noises coming from the woman beside her are almost enough to make Amanda gather up her blankets and move out to the couch for the short remainder of her sleep, although she doesn't think it will create enough of a buffer zone between her and the monstrous sounds emanating from between the other woman's lips. Simply leaving the room is one option, but the other option, which involves yanking the pillow out from beneath her own head and smacking Olivia across the face with it, could prove immensely more satisfying.

Her boss is completely unguarded in sleep, that side of her that only Amanda has been privileged to see over the past several weeks, although she would use the term 'privileged' quite loosely at the moment. Olivia is flat on her back with her arms splayed out to the sides, wearing one of Amanda's robes, her mouth wide open, and a horrifying series of noises emitting from her throat that is causing Amanda to cringe and grit her teeth every time the other woman inhales or exhales.

She scrubs her hands over her face and lets out a harsh sigh, pulling the covers up over her head and curling into a ball on her side, away from the offensive sound, in disbelief that this particular quirk of Olivia's was actually something she had missed in the older woman's absence. After another minute, Amanda can't take it anymore and rips the blankets away, long hair standing on end in a halo of golden static, and inches closer to Olivia on the mattress, reaching out to gently poke her in the ribs.

"Liv," she hisses. "Can you please be quiet?"

Her only answer is another earth-shattering snore and she rolls her eyes, leaning over to pinch the other woman's nose shut with her fingers. Olivia lets out a muffled cough, followed by a loud snort, and then continues on with the cacophonous noise, the sound impossibly stronger now.

"Liv, for fuck's sake," Amanda mutters in exasperation, sitting up in the disheveled bedding and swiping her rumpled blonde locks away from her face. She gazes down at the other woman in chagrin, but can't help the hint of affection that mixes in with the frustration, and heaves another long-suffering sigh. "Okay, you brought this on yourself."

She bites back a mischievous smile and then swings a leg over Olivia's hips, straddling her momentarily before slumping right down on top of the taller woman with her full weight, knees planted beside her thighs, hands pressing into the bed by her shoulders, head right next to hers on the mattress. "Hey," she whispers softly into the other woman's ear. "Can you please stop?"

When Olivia remains dead to the world, the snoring almost deafening now, Amanda puts her lips right into her ear and speaks at top volume, voice coming out in a loud singsong tone. " _Olivia, wake up!"_

The older woman's body jerks suddenly beneath her, obviously startled, hands coming up to grip Amanda's back, fingernails digging in and making her wince slightly. "Amanda...what the hell?" Her boss' is voice is sleepy and confused, showing a tinge of concern, mumbling almost incoherently as she talks. "What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?"

"No, you're just annoying me," Amanda replies, choosing not to mention the fact that she has indeed had multiple nightmares throughout the course of the past several hours; instead laying her head down on Olivia's chest and closing her eyes. "It sounds like a garbage truck is parked inside my bedroom when you snore like that."

"What...?" Olivia still sounds perplexed and a little disoriented, not quite awake yet. It seems to take her a couple of minutes to get her bearings, and when she does, she appears very disgruntled. "Well, you're annoying _me_ ," she grumbles. "You're clinging to me like a monkey and yelling right into my ear while I'm trying to get some sleep."

"Liv, your version of sleep apparently involves trying to wake the dead with all that racket you're making," Amanda points out, burying her face in the older woman's neck, enjoying the feel of Olivia's hands smoothing up and down her bare back as they argue playfully.

"Amanda, do you have some aversion to wearing actual clothing?" her boss asks, still sounding quite lethargic, fingernails tracing gentle circles over her ribs. "Why are you still in your underwear? It's freezing in here."

Amanda shrugs, closing her eyes as Olivia continues to caress her back and sides, still clad in the same light pink bra and panties set that she had been wearing the evening before, during their ill-fated trip to the movie theater. She had either been wrapped in the older woman's trench coat or snuggled in a blanket for the remainder of the night, and hadn't bothered putting on pajamas, too physically exhausted and emotionally wrung out to even think about it, their evening filled with intense conversation, confessions of love, and bouts of sobbing, in between short bursts of frantically making out like a couple of horny teenagers about to get caught by their parents. By the time they had finally dragged themselves to bed in the wee hours of the morning, clinging to one another like they were afraid the other would disappear, they had been completely worn out, utterly depleted from the wide range of emotions and feelings they had been experiencing throughout the day.

"Ugh, I can't breathe with you lying on top of me like this," Olivia mutters, tone of voice fatigued and irritated, moving to shift Amanda off of her body, but this only causes her to cling more tightly, arms winding around the older woman's neck and knees digging into the sides of her thighs.

"You're pretty hard to please there, Liv," she says, chuckling lightly. "You wake up with a half naked woman on top of you, and you're complaining? And you're also implying that I'm fat?" she teases, pressing her lips into the side of her boss' neck for a quick kiss. "I'm so heavy, I'm causing you to lose your breath? I'm a little offended here."

Olivia sighs and a derisive snort escapes her mouth, although she tilts her head to the side for better access as Amanda kisses her again. "Honey, if you get any skinnier, you're going to disappear," she points out, hands rubbing up and down her back again. "You're about as far from fat as you can get."

"Then stop complaining that you can't breathe," Amanda snickers. "You're just being a grump. Although you're pretty damn cute when you're grumpy," she admits with a chuckle, her tongue lightly tracing Olivia's neck and smiling when she feels the other woman shiver beneath her. "Mmm, Liv, that feels really good," she adds, eyes still closed contentedly as the older woman continues with her massage, fingers working their way down her spine and digging deeply into her muscles.

"Does it?" Olivia asks, voice coming out in a slightly breathy moan now, and Amanda's heart rate picks up, the older woman's caresses becoming slower and more intimate, pausing here and there along her ribs to draw light figure eights against her skin with the tip of one finger.

"Mmm, yeah," she whispers, pleasant tingles running from her head to her toes. "Keep going, please."

"Oh, I'll keep going," Olivia replies, voice completely flat now, and Amanda cracks a suspicious eye open at her sudden change of tone. "Does this feel good too?"

Before she has time to react, the older woman's fingers are suddenly penetrating sharply into her ribs, and Amanda lets out an ear piercing shriek of surprise, rolling off of Olivia and trying to escape the roving hands that are coming after her.

"Oh, now who's the loud one?" Olivia teases, scrambling across the bed behind her, and yanking Amanda back into her arms. "Not clinging to me like a little monkey now, are you? What's the problem, honey? Why are you trying to get away so quickly?" Her hands are all over Amanda's sides and stomach now, tickling mercilessly, screams of laughter exploding from Amanda's throat as she twists and turns in the other woman's embrace, trying to evade Olivia's long fingers, but not having much luck.

"Shit, Liv, stop!" she pleads, struggling wildly to get away, but the taller woman only tightens her grip, fingers digging harder into her ribs and causing Amanda to lose her breath with the force of her laughter.

"Say you're sorry," Olivia replies calmly, holding Amanda's squirming form on her lap, and she can hear the other woman trying not to break into laughter as well. "I don't appreciate being woken up in that manner."

"Why should I apologize because you snore like a garbage truck?" Amanda gasps out, still trying in vain to escape. " _I'm_ the one who doesn't appreciate being woken up in that manner! And at least you had a hot woman on top of you when _you_ woke up," she adds teasingly and then arches her back and shrieks again, as Olivia's fingers dig in even harder.

"Say you're sorry, or it's not going to stop," the older woman answers, voice perfectly pleasant now, tone very even, and Amanda rolls her eyes and grits her teeth, struggling one last time to escape Olivia's tight embrace, but it is no use. "I can do this all day," Olivia adds, adopting that same annoying singsong tone that Amanda had been using earlier. Her hands have traveled up underneath Amanda's arms now, fingers tickling wildly, as if to prove her point.

"Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she chokes out, allowing her body to go limp when Olivia finally lets up on the torturous tickling assault and the older woman cradles her gently in her lap, small bursts of smug laughter escaping from her lips.

Amanda tucks her head against Olivia's chest as she tries to catch her breath, winding her arms around the other woman's waist, a smile stretching across her face. She feels a loosening in her chest, a wave of relief flooding over her at the light banter between them, the ability to joke and tease after the heaviness of the past week, especially the events that had occurred the day before, and the brief break from the harsh reality of her life is very welcome.

She is still somewhat stunned by the confessions of the previous evening, that she had finally been able to recognize her own feelings and had the courage to voice what has been on her mind for quite some time now, and that Olivia had actually returned her feelings, offering to make Amanda's home her home. There is a small part of her that still can't quite wrap her head around it all, that this is indeed real and not some crazy dream or wishful thinking, that this amazing woman who has become her entire world wants to be with her and loves her back.

"How are you doing today?" Olivia asks softly, once they have settled back down and the tickling has turned into gentle, soothing caresses. A trace of mirth is still detectable in her tone, but her expression has become somewhat more serious, as she leans down to peer into Amanda's blue eyes, stroking the mess of blonde hair back from her face. "Anymore nightmares or flashbacks during the night? I know yesterday was pretty rough for you."

Amanda shrugs and buries her head further into the older woman's chest, not quite ready to come back to reality just yet, wanting to remain in this lighthearted moment, and trying to keep the haunting images of her dreams from appearing in her mind again, that usual shadowy, faceless figure forcing her to do degrading, painful things against her will. She had woken up several times throughout the course of the night, sweat matting her hair to her head and a scream poised to escape her mouth, only to find Olivia there with her in the bed, and that feeling of safety and security and love would encompass her for a brief, relieved moment, before being sucked back down into the murky depths of darkness once again.

"Hey, talk to me," Olivia whispers, leaning down to place her cheek against Amanda's. "Did you have a bad night, honey?"

"Every night is a bad night, Liv," she mumbles, closing her eyes with a weary sigh, and she can feel the happiness and levity trickling out of her as she desperately tries to keep ahold of it, not wanting her terrible dreams and fear of the future to overtake her, the uncertainly of what awaits her after this weekend, when she will be done with her break from Dr. Lindstrom and will have to explain what has been going on in her absence, will have to be completely honest about why she had been absent in the first place. Amanda knows she will need to be entirely truthful when she explains that she had taken a complete nosedive with her recovery; that she had indulged in a ridiculous amount of alcohol in place of the coping mechanisms she had been taught to help deal with her panic disorder, that the flashback she had experienced at the movie theater the previous evening was utterly terrifying in its intensity and realness, that she does not seem to be capable of choking down a full meal and often just forgets to eat at all, and that her ever-present nightmares are not yet abating. The hardest part will be admitting that she had decided for a short period of time that she was done with it all and it just wasn't worth the effort anymore.

Amanda dreads the thought of what is to come and just wishes to remain here, cuddled up in her cozy little bubble with Olivia, away from the world, and anyone and anything with the ability to inflict further pain upon her or make her face the reality of her situation. All she wants to do is bask in the stunning fact that Olivia has returned her feelings; that their journey from colleagues to friends to falling in love is the only good thing in her life right now, the only thing she wants to concentrate on, the only thing that is keeping her from falling completely to pieces.

The older woman lays them back down in the bed, tucking the covers up around their shoulders, Amanda's head still resting against her chest, and they are quiet for a few minutes, Olivia's fingers threading through her hair comfortingly and scratching lightly against her scalp, Amanda's hand rubbing unconscious circles across the taller woman's stomach. She continues to try to hold onto that small sliver of fun and lightness, immensely enjoying when Olivia lets loose and is ridiculous and immature with her, and considers digging a hand into the older woman's ribs to restart the tickle war between them, when she frowns suddenly, her chest tightening with trepidation.

The lavender colored robe that Olivia had borrowed from her so she didn't have to sleep in her work clothes is gaping slightly at the top, where one side is folded over the other, giving a glimpse of the smooth olive skin beneath. Amanda's eyes are fixed there now, as she finds herself staring at the red scratches that have become visible, the garment likely having been disturbed during all the wrestling and silliness, and the marks not only remind her of the wounds she herself had sustained during her assault, but of the ones she had inflicted upon Olivia during the worst of her nightmares.

Her throat feels tight as she continues to stare at the scratches, and she opens her mouth to ask the older woman what has happened, how she had come to receive the injuries, but she can't seem to get the words out, too afraid to hear the answer. She realizes where her hand is rubbing and remembers with a frightening clarity digging her fingernails into the tender flesh of Olivia's stomach and raking them downwards in a sharp motion, with the intent to inflict as much pain and harm as possible, a tiny piece of revenge for the way she had been treated at the hands of that brutal stranger, mistakenly thinking that her boss; her protector and friend and ultimately the woman she would fall in love with, was trying to hurt her.

Amanda is overcome with an intense feeling of remorse as she continues to rub the exact place where she had previously caused the older woman pain, and she is terrified that she has been violent in her slumber once again, that old habits die hard; and her gaze remains locked on these fresh wounds, her heart sinking, as this is one area of her recovery that she has actually made good, steady progress in, seemingly having been able to curb this disconcerting behavior. She finds that her thoughts are fixated there now, unable to stop recalling how she had inflicted harm on the one person who least deserves it, and she wonders if it has happened yet again. She bites back the urge to say she is sorry, having already apologized profusely in the past, Olivia refusing to forgive her as she had insisted there had been nothing to forgive, once again proving to Amanda just how much the other woman cares; her patience and willingness to wade through the darkness with her, even when it has caused her actual physical pain, resolute in not giving up and not letting go until Amanda is able to claw her way out and emerge into the light.

She again bites back the overwhelming urge to apologize, as she is not entirely certain how Olivia had gotten injured, and it still too frightened to ask, instead pressing a soft kiss to the wounds, and feeling a return gesture as Olivia's lips come to rest against her bent head, hand stroking over her bare back. She remains there for a moment, tucked against the older woman's chest, before sliding slowly down Olivia's body and wrapping an arm around her hips, placing another kiss against her robe-covered stomach, lips coming to rest gently upon the nubby material and replacing the hand that was just there, wanting to soothe, even though the physical pain in this area of her body has long since subsided. The emotional pain still lingers, though, or at least it does for Amanda, and she doesn't think she will ever be able to let go of this, the knowledge that she had hurt Olivia in the past, and the grim fear that it has happened yet again. That desperate need to make amends for what she has done, for every single thing she has ever put Olivia through, both physically and emotionally, is all-encompassing now, and she needs to show how sorry she is, desperate to convey how much love she has for this woman.

The garment is tied loosely at the older woman's waist and Amanda chews uncertainly on her lower lip for a moment, heart rate picking up quickly, a wave of nervousness overcoming her, as she carefully unties it and eases a hand inside, fingers coming to rest on the warm, bare skin of Olivia's abdomen. She hears the sharp intake of breath above her as she trails her fingertips lightly over sudden goosebumps, and slowly peels one side of the robe away, revealing a toned expanse of olive skin and a pair of black panties trimmed in lace.

Olivia is so breathtakingly beautiful and she finds herself flooded with arousal, a sudden dampness between her legs, and she shifts on the bed, pressing her thighs together, smoothing a reverent hand across her boss' skin. There are very faint breathy sounds coming from above her now, and she traces light patterns across the older woman's stomach, fingertips just grazing the waistband of her panties, fighting the urge to slip beneath the material and trail them lower.

Amanda frowns slightly when she spots the almost imperceptible white lines marring the older woman's otherwise perfect skin, pausing in her actions as she stares down at the small marks, the realization that her violent nocturnal actions have not only caused her boss physical pain but have actually caused her to scar as well; and tears well up in her eyes, an ache spreading throughout her chest. That intense need to soothe and apologize is overpowering now, wondering again where the scratches on her chest had come from, and she leans down to press her lips against the offending blemishes, holding them there for a moment before repeating the gesture over and over.

"Amanda..." Olivia's whispered, somewhat strangled voice sounds from above her, and she feels the older woman's hand grazing the top of her head, fingers tangling gently into the long blonde tresses.

She continues to place soft kisses along the other woman's heated skin, her movements becoming slightly more frenetic, her desire and regret mingling together to create an odd, unsettled feeling, and she can see Olivia's stomach muscles tensing up beneath her touch, can hear the ragged intakes of breath and shuddering exhalations, and her fingertips are tracing along that edge of black lace just below the older woman's navel. She has tentatively eased one finger underneath the waistband, pulling them down so she can press another kiss lower on her abdomen, and can feel the warmth radiating from below, when a single tear slips from her eye and splashes down onto Olivia's skin before she can stop it.

"Amanda...?" There is a questioning, confused tone to the other woman's voice now, a slight note of warning, and she feels the fingers in her hair tighten somewhat, tugging a little more insistently, Olivia obviously trying to get her attention.

She keeps kissing the other woman, lips intent on following the thin white lines disappearing beneath the material of Olivia's panties, and she pauses in the act of pulling them even lower to gain more access, the older woman's hips lifting slightly from the bed, seemingly of their own accord, as if encouraging her to remove them entirely, but Olivia settles back down an instant later, as if realizing what she has done, whispering Amanda's name in concern once again. Her eyes are squeezed shut, determined not to start crying because she has seen the scars, the marks that Olivia has neglected to mention were still there; a constant, permanent reminder that Amanda has physically injured her to the point that she will bare the scars for the rest of her life.

"Hey, sweetheart, come on, you need to stop. Tell me what's going on." Amanda is aware of Olivia sitting up in the bed now, and she is being pulled up with her, tucked into the other woman's embrace, her own arms sliding beneath the robe and winding their way around her boss' bare back.

She is shivering with emotion, a war brewing within her, the arousal and regret and sorrow and need all fighting for dominance, each feeling demanding to be taken notice of, and she buries her head in Olivia's shoulder, completely overwhelmed now and fighting back the torrent of tears that keep threatening to fall, not wanting to unleash a waterfall that may never end, as she has cried more over the past few weeks than in all the years of her life combined.

"Amanda, we need to slow things down here, honey," Olivia says softly, lips pressed against the top of her head, hand smoothing down her cheek, that familiar and comforting rocking motion starting up, but doing little to calm the fire raging inside of her.

She can hear the other woman trying to catch her breath, as she herself does the same, can feel how hard both of their hearts are pounding now that they are pressed so closely against one another, Olivia clad in a black lace bra beneath the robe, that perfectly matches her panties, and Amanda wishes she had thought to put on some pajamas before bed, that she wasn't also in her underwear, as she is finding it difficult to remain in control, the urge to both soothe the other woman's pain and to push her back down onto the bed and continue where she had left off threatening to devour her, making her feel like she is being yanked in opposite directions.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she finds herself repeating, and she is not sure exactly what she is apologizing for; that she has caused Olivia irreparable physical harm and hadn't been aware of the long-lasting effects, that she has possibly been violent yet again in her sleep, or that she is so turned on by the other woman that she is finding it extremely hard to keep herself under control. The urge to start weeping at everything and anything, just at life in general, is right at the surface now, and she concentrates very hard on pushing it down, determined not to fall apart in Olivia's arms yet again, and wishing once more for the lighthearted silliness of earlier.

"Baby, what's going on? What are you sorry for? Talk to me." Olivia is still rocking her back and forth, her cheek pressed against Amanda's now, and when she finds that she still can't speak, is unable to put a voice to her incredible guilt, the older woman places a kiss on her forehead, causing Amanda's eyes to slide closed, burrowing herself further into her boss' warm body, the staggering amount of desire, the urge to soothe, and the need to be comforted fighting a raging battle inside of her. "I think we need to take it easy here, okay?" Olivia continues. "We're moving too fast here, honey. You're obviously upset, and I don't want you to feel unsafe with me or scared in any way."

Amanda pulls back with a frown, fixing her gaze on Olivia's penetrating, compassionate dark eyes, the older woman's brow slightly furrowed as they stare at each other. She realizes that Olivia has mistaken her emotions for something else, that she doesn't know Amanda has seen the scratches or the scars, and her stomach twists sharply, an uneasy feeling churning in her gut, and the sudden need for space causes her to scramble from the bed and stand there on shaking legs, the older woman reaching out an arm to her, the frown on her face deepening in perplexity.

"What do you mean?" Amanda asks hesitantly, a part of her not wanting to acknowledge what her boss is referring to. "Why wouldn't I feel safe with you? Why would I be scared of you?"

"Honey..." Olivia leans across the bed, reaching out for her again, but Amanda sidesteps away from her, crossing her arms over her chest, feeling very vulnerable and exposed now. "I just think we need to be very careful, especially for the first little while, okay?" The other woman's voice is soft and empathetic as she continues speaking. "You've been through a trauma and you're still experiencing nightmares and flashbacks on a regular basis, so I think it would be best if we take things very slowly, sweetheart. I'm sorry if I got a bit carried away."

"Why are you apologizing?" Amanda snaps in confusion, taking another step away from her, arms tightening over her chest, and she wonders if the older woman is about to reject her, even after her declarations of love the night before; that Olivia doesn't actually want to be with her in a more intimate way. "You didn't do anything, you didn't get carried away; I was the one who initiated it."

She suddenly realizes that Olivia has been letting her take the lead every single time there has been physical contact of an intimate nature since they had professed their love for one another the day before; that they have had trouble keeping their hands off of each other since Amanda had kissed her for the first time, the small gesture seemingly unleashing a flurry of buried passion and need, but each time their affections had taken a more romantic, amorous turn, the older woman has pulled back and let Amanda call the shots. Her boss hasn't seemed to be comfortable initiating physical contact between them unless it is of a more friendly, platonic nature, and Amanda cocks her head to the side in curiosity, the thought occurring to her that maybe this isn't rejection after all, but that Olivia is actually the one who is scared and unsure, and does not want to risk setting off any flashbacks by being the one to initiate anything physical between them.

There is an odd feeling brewing inside of her now, one that she can't quite seem to identify, and she knows the older woman is just being cautious with her, is treading carefully because of everything she has been through, and doesn't want to hurt her, and that perhaps Olivia also has her own fears and concerns that she is trying to deal with, her own reservations about moving forward in a more physical way with one another. Amanda is aware that she should be appreciative that Olivia is treating her with such reverence, that she is being respectful and careful towards her until she can begin to emerge from the darkness of the nightmares and flashbacks, until her life begins to take on a more normal tone.

As she begins to recognize the feeling that is demanding to be acknowledged, she realizes that it is dread, that there is a somewhat sinister quality to this particular feeling, and a wave of nausea is rushing up her throat, as the memories of the shadowy man in the alley are now mixing in with her need to be with Olivia in a more intimate way, merging together in a disturbing, disgusting manner, unable to be separated from one another. She is horrified, pressing a hand to her mouth for a moment, trying to get ahold of herself, the sight of the older woman's scratches and scars unsettling enough, but this other issue seems to be taking precedence now, and she is stunned at how quickly the morning seems to have taken such a dark, drastic turn.

She hasn't been the least bit turned on or interested in sex for months now, not until she had slowly begun to see Olivia in a different light, the thought of anyone touching her in an intimate way after what she had been through just too much to bear. Now that things have changed, she doesn't want this taken away from her, this beautiful, pure relationship with the woman who only has her best interests at heart, who genuinely loves and cares for her, and she doesn't want that man; that evil, vile excuse for a human being, in her head when she is with Olivia.

"Amanda, can you please stop edging your way out of the room and come back over here so we can talk?" Olivia asks gently, her arm still stretched out, expression pinched with worry, dark eyes pleading for her to take her hand and climb back onto the bed. "I just want to make sure you're okay with everything that's happening between us."

"Well, I wouldn't have initiated it if I wasn't," Amanda replies, a hint of a snarl in her tone, and there is shame simmering just beneath her words, that she dare speak to Olivia in this way when the older woman is showing her nothing but concern and kindness, but she can't seem to help it; does not wish to be sucked back down into her twisted memories when all she wants is to enjoy her time with the other woman and doesn't want it tainted with the dark events of the past, events that she wishes more than anything to just forget and put behind her.

"I just think we need to take things very slowly," Olivia reiterates softly, sitting back on her heels with a slight sigh, like she has accepted that Amanda won't be rejoining her on the bed. "I want you to know that you are always safe with me and I will never hurt you. I never want to do anything to make you uncomfortable, and if you have a problem with anything at all, I want you to be able to be honest with me about it. I don't ever want to do anything you don't like."

"You know what I don't like?" Amanda whispers, images from the degradation and humiliation that had taken place in the alley assaulting her brain now; that need to put a voice to the violent acts that had taken place, even though it hurts to speak of them, but they are consuming her thoughts now, and the words spill from her lips before she can stop them. "I don't like being shoved face-first into a brick wall. I don't like having my mouth covered so I can't breathe or yell for help. I don't like being forced into sickening sexual acts against my will and bleeding afterwards because it was so rough." She swipes a hand over her face and yanks a tangle of hair out of her eyes. "So since I'm guessing none of that stuff will be happening between us, Liv, there shouldn't be a problem, alright?"

The other woman looks as if she has been struck mute, expression completely stricken as she listens to Amanda speak, and even though Olivia has heard the gritty details several times before, Amanda guesses they are taking on a new horrific tone now that they are involved with each other and had been engaging in more intimate behavior a moment ago. They stare at one another in silence, the air crackling with awkwardness and tension, and Amanda feels a deep wave of shame and remorse as she looks at Olivia, needing to remember that this is new for her as well, and that the older woman might be having some difficulty adjusting to their new relationship status, due to the circumstances of their situation; that Amanda is still fragile and somewhat emotionally unbalanced. Although Olivia has returned her feelings of love, she may be fearful of unwittingly damaging her more than she already has been, having witnessed in an up close and personal manner the absolute hell that Amanda has been enduring.

She swallows hard and takes in a shaky breath, voice still not much louder than a whisper when she speaks again. "I know I'm safe with you, Liv. I know you would never hurt me, and obviously I don't have a problem with anything if I'm the one initiating it, okay? I know you're just worried about me, and I probably shouldn't have said what I just did, but I don't want to talk about this stuff when I'm with you...in this way. I can't deal with it; it's just too disturbing. I don't want him in my head. I only want you there."

"Amanda-" Olivia has swung her legs over the side of the bed as if to make a move toward her, looking like she intends to continue the conversation, but Amanda holds out a hand to stop her.

"Please, Liv," she whispers, another wave of nausea washing over her. "I'm sorry if I was harsh with you, but I can't talk about this...at least not right now. I'm going to be sick if we don't stop discussing it. _Please_."

Olivia studies her in silence for a moment, a sheen of tears in her eyes, that devastated expression still on her face, mixing in with one of immense guilt and sorrow, before raising her hands slightly in the air as if in surrender. "Okay," she says softly, perching uneasily on the edge of the bed, legs trembling as if resisting the urge to walk over to Amanda and wrap her up in a tight embrace. "Honey, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to bring up those awful memories for you, especially not right now. You just seemed to get upset all of a sudden, and I thought it was because of what happened to you, that you were having a flashback. I needed to make sure you were okay. But I should have asked you first instead of just assuming."

"It had nothing to do with what happened in the alley," Amanda murmurs. "I saw the scratches and the scars, and I wanted to apologize to you, I wanted to make you feel better." Their eyes are still locked on each other, and Amanda takes another step toward the door of the bedroom, feeling the intense need for escape and not wanting to break down in front of the other woman. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Liv. I'm sorry I can't control myself when I sleep."

Olivia in frowning at her uncomprehendingly and then looks down at her own chest, pulling the sides of the robe apart. "Oh, honey, these aren't from you," she assures her softly, looking back up at her with a sympathetic expression. "Fin and I had a little scuffle with a suspect at the precinct yesterday. He was extremely drunk and was falling all over the place in the interrogation room, and we both got a bit scratched up in the process. I'm fine, though, sweetheart, I promise. You didn't do this."

Amanda feels a tendril of relief before remembering the scars on Olivia's stomach. " _Those_ marks are my fault, though," she mutters, gesturing toward the older woman's midsection. "I _did_ do that."

"Amanda, it's okay," her boss says gently, getting to her feet now, and causing Amanda to take another step back. "These marks will fade, I promise. They're barely noticeable, they're barely even there."

"I noticed them," Amanda replies in a small voice, shoulders hunching up around her ears in shame. "I'm sorry, Liv," she repeats.

"Sweetheart, you have to stop apologizing for things that aren't your fault," Olivia says softly. "I understand that you're upset about what happened while you were asleep, but it hasn't happened for quite awhile now, and I am absolutely fine. You've gotten that part of your recovery under control, so you need to concentrate on the other parts now and try to put this part behind you. This," she continues, gesturing down at herself. "This is in the past now. It's over and done with and the marks will fade away like it never even happened."

"But we both know that it did happen," Amanda whispers. "They're scars, Liv. Scars don't fade; they're with you forever."

"They can fade if you give them enough time," Olivia replies quietly, dark gaze still penetrating deeply into Amanda's, and she knows the older woman isn't talking about her own injuries anymore. "They can fade if you don't keep trying to hide them; if you talk about things when you need to, instead of pushing them down even further and burying them inside."

They stare intently at one another for a long moment, and Amanda feels too overwhelmed to continue the conversation, so she simply turns on her heel to walk out of the room, ignoring Olivia's pleas for her to return. She shuts herself in the bathroom, leaning against the door for a moment, closing her eyes and sighing harshly, wondering why nothing is ever easy, why anything in her life, even the best part of it, can never seem to go right. There is embarrassment coursing through her now at the way she has just acted, mingling in with the shame and regret, and she shrugs out of her bra and panties, leaning over to fill up the tub with water and pouring in a generous amount of bubble bath.

She sits in the tub, bubbles up to her neck and closes her eyes, trying to find some calm, wishing she had brought Olivia's ring into the room with her so she could sit it on the counter and gaze at it, even though she has just needed to take a break from the ring's owner. There is bright sunlight spilling through the window, creating rays of golden color across the pattern of the floor tiles, promising a beautiful day, and all she wants is to have a nice weekend with Olivia, to just forget all the bad and concentrate on the good, desperate for a break from the never ending issues; from this recovery process that is regularly being interrupted to present new problems or to reintroduce old ones that she thought she had gotten ahold of, some of them seeming to crop up out of nowhere to inflict their torment upon her.

Amanda takes a deep breath and tries to remind herself that it still hasn't been that long since everything has happened; since the gambling urges had started up again, since her relapse, since her assault; and that it will likely take a long time, much longer than she wants, to deal with the fallout of it all, and that she needs to exercise some patience, not only with herself but with Olivia as well.

There is a soft knock on the door, the older woman's voice asking quietly if she can come in, and Amanda murmurs a "yes", resisting the urge to roll her eyes, as she has figured Olivia wouldn't be able to stay away for very long.

The door opens and the other woman pokes her head inside the room, expression one of hesitance and concern and love, and Amanda finds her heart melting as they gaze intently at one another, and she shakes her head, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You're not really that great at giving other people their space, are you, Liv?"

Olivia chuckles lightly, stepping fully inside now and hovering next to the bathtub, wrapping her arms around herself as if she is need of comfort. "I've given you enough space this week, Amanda," she replies softly. "I don't want you to cry alone in here. It breaks my heart."

"I'm not crying, Liv," Amanda assures her quietly. "I think there has been enough drama in this bathroom and in this tub, to last a lifetime."

Olivia chuckles again, the sound gentle and soothing, and squats down beside her on the floor, reaching out to swipe a bubble off of Amanda's cheek. "Well, I guess I can't argue with that," she replies. "I don't want you to be upset all alone in here, though. If you're going to be upset, do it with me, okay?"

"Okay," Amanda says softly, stroking her hand along Olivia's arm. She hesitates for a moment, wanting to be close to the older woman again, despite what had just occurred in the bedroom, but remembering Olivia's warning that they need to take things slow, at least for the time being.

As usual, the other woman seems to be reading her mind, and she trails her fingers gently across Amanda's cheekbone. "Do you want me to get in with you?" she whispers, brown eyes locked onto blue.

Amanda quirks an eyebrow at her, a smile tugging at her own lips now. "Isn't that against the rules, Liv? Sharing a bubble bath doesn't really seem like taking things slow. You changed your mind pretty quickly there."

Olivia smiles softly at her in return, their gazes still fixed intensely on one another. "I just need to be close to you, honey. I just want to hold you. But if you feel uncomfortable, just say the word and I'll leave."

Amanda shifts forward in the tub and cocks her head to the side, a silent invitation for the older woman to join her, a trickle of water and bubbles spilling over the rim and onto the floor with the slight movement. Her mouth goes dry and her heart rate picks up once again as she watches Olivia shed the robe and peel off her bra and panties, unable to tear her eyes away from the beauty in front of her. There is a slight hesitation once again as the older woman pauses for a moment beside the tub, and then climbs carefully over the side, gently enveloping Amanda in her embrace from behind, arms winding around her waist and thighs sliding over to rest beside her own.

Amanda leans back against Olivia's chest and closes her eyes, fingers intertwining with the other woman's. "God you feel so good, Liv," she sighs quietly, pushing back further in her embrace, feeling her boss' arms tighten around her protectively.

"So do you," Olivia replies softly, placing a gentle kiss against Amanda's cheek. "I'm really sorry for earlier, sweetheart. I know you don't want to talk about it, but I do need you to know that I'm sorry. I just never want you to feel like you're unsafe with me in any way. I never want to do anything to hurt you."

"You won't," Amanda whispers fervently, turning around in the older woman's arms and placing both hands against the sides of Olivia's face. "I'm the one who's sorry, Liv. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I'm just a little mixed up with things right now; everything is just very overwhelming and confusing." She leans forward to press the barest of kisses against Olivia's lips, trying to convey her apology, and somehow also trying to apologize in advance for everything that is likely to come up in the future, as she knows the road will continue to be rocky, and new and old challenges will no doubt be presenting themselves on a regular basis until her life begins to take on somewhat of a more normal tone.

She feels a sharp, uncertain tear in her heart as she wonders, not for the first time and likely not for the last, if she is too much for Olivia, if all of this is just too heavy to handle, a burden too large to carry, especially now that have taken their relationship to the next level, and she tilts her face up to meet the older woman's dark, compassionate eyes. "Just give me time, okay? I know I'm not an easy person to love, but promise me you won't leave while I get things figured out."

"I will never leave," Olivia whispers fiercely, returning the kiss and pulling Amanda firmly against her chest once again, their hearts pounding in tandem, the swell of emotion that rises up within Amanda threatening to burst from within her to consume them both. "Whatever comes up, whatever happens, we'll deal with it together. You'll never be alone again, Amanda. I love you and I promise that I will always be here."


	18. Chapter 18

Amanda is pacing around inside her apartment like a caged animal, hands clenched tightly at her sides and sweat beading her brow, heart pounding in an uneven, sickly rhythm, and breath coming out in quick, short pants. She has Olivia's ring clutched tightly in the moist, slippery grip of her shaking fingers, since Olivia herself is not here; has yet to return from work even though darkness had fallen across the city long ago, and the dinner Amanda had halfheartedly cooked for them has gone cold and untouched, the pasta sitting in an unappetizing clump of chilled, hardened noodles on the kitchen table.

It is Monday evening, and the new case that the team had received during Amanda and Olivia's volatile, emotionally charged lunchtime showdown the previous Friday, when Amanda had been drunk and belligerent, had suddenly exploded over the weekend into one of their most high profile cases yet. An anonymous tip had let to the discovery of an intricate, widespread web of child sexual abuse, a ring of highly organized and intelligent individuals carrying out the sickening crimes, the group involving prominent residents of the city, a few of New York's most elite doctors and lawyers and athletes. Amanda is no longer sheltered from what is going on at the precinct, as it has been all over the news for the entire day so far, and the past several hours have been a whirlwind of activity, as she has tried to stay caught up with what her colleagues are dealing with, and coming to terms with the fact that her own life has yet again been thrown into a tailspin.

After her break from reality the week before, her need to hide from the world and briefly deciding to give up on everything that had been helping her seemingly glacial-paced recovery process, she feels like she has been thrown head first into an ocean full of sharks and is battling to keep her head above water once again; to keep from being sucked down into the deep, murky depths and eaten alive. She had seen Dr. Lindstrom that morning after her extended absence, and once again everything has changed and she is left struggling to grasp onto anything in her life that is even remotely familiar, wondering when she will begin to recognize this nonsensical existence, when everything will return to normal, and if she will ever be able to stop regressing.

The only person she has wanted anything to do with that day is the one person who has been missing; Olivia wrapped up in own hellish nightmare at the precinct, along with Fin and Carisi, and her thoughts stray momentarily to her boys, her brothers in blue, wondering how they are coping with everything, yet another horrific case having to do with children and this one splashed all over the media like some kind of depraved circus sideshow. She wishes she was there with them, despite the horrendous nature of the work, and the fact that this is how her seemingly never ending slide into the dark had started; with multiple cases of children they couldn't save, the despicable dregs of society that they were forced to deal with on a daily basis, leading her into temptation with the addiction she mistakenly thought she had gotten a handle on, and everything spiraling out of control from that one decision, the diffuse consequences unraveling to leave no area of her life untouched.

She is desperate to be reunited with her team, to help these children, these innocent victims who had no control over what had been happening to them, who hadn't been able to make it stop and didn't have anyone to save them; wants to do everything in her power to put the monsters behind bars, but the dream of returning to her job now seems even further out of reach than ever before. She needs to be of some use again, is eager to get back to the work she was born to do; but instead she is here, striding back and forth on trembling legs from one end of the kitchen to the other, waiting for Olivia's belated return to the apartment and clutching onto the older woman's childhood ring like it is her lifeline.

Amanda is practicing the breathing techniques Dr. Lindstrom has taught her, trying to suppress the storm of anxiety that is brewing inside, the panic twisted up with a startling amount of rage, threatening to let loose with the usual barrage of uncontrollable thoughts and behavior, and she is determined to keep herself from falling to pieces right before Olivia is likely to walk through the door, not wanting to overwhelm the woman she loves when she has no doubt just experienced one of the worst days of her career.

She is worried for the other woman, can guess what the events of this day have been doing to Olivia, and wishes they had been able to keep in better contact during the hours they have been separated, but a few sparsely worded texts here and there are all they have been able to exchange, both of their days taking turns neither one of them had been expecting. She knows Olivia is worried for her as well, and has been waiting to hear how the appointment with Dr. Lindstrom had gone, but Amanda has not been able to be truthful with her, at least not yet; not until her boss is free and clear of the precinct for the day and is comfortably ensconced at home, hopefully able to let go of some of what she has been dealing with over the past several hours.

Amanda can feel the guilt creeping in, mixing with the anxiety and rage to create an actual buzzing sensation beneath her skin, her heart still racing in between palpitations, numbness crawling into her hands and feet, and she takes a deep, cleansing breath, resolute in calming herself before Olivia gets home. The last thing the older woman needs to deal with the second she enters the apartment is Amanda's impending meltdown, and she concentrates again on getting herself under control, twirling the tiny, cold piece of metal between her fingers, trying to find a modicum of peace and stillness. She is searching desperately for the stoic grit that used to exist somewhere within her, having lost count of the number of times she has missed the woman she used to be, wondering yet again where she has disappeared to and if she will ever be coming back.

When she hears the key turn in the lock a few minutes later, Amanda strides to the door and stops short as Olivia enters, her heart twisting painfully in her chest as she gets a look at the older woman. It would have been obvious even without the multiple news reports and brief texts that her boss has had the day from hell, Olivia's usually immaculate clothing rumpled and disheveled, thick dark locks windblown, face pale and drawn. Her eyes are downcast and red rimmed, and Amanda can't tell if the redness is due to exhaustion, if Olivia had been shedding a few discreet tears on the way home, or if it is a mixture of the two. The older woman looks nothing like her usual work persona, the unflappable and dignified appearance completely shattered, and she can tell that Olivia has been carefully holding it together until she is safe and sound in the apartment with only Amanda for company; where it is okay to break down, where she doesn't have to be strong, where there is only love and not judgment.

She takes a step toward the other woman, resolving to push down her own emotions and feelings from the day, trying to shove aside the anger and unfairness of her own life, and offers her boss a small, comforting smile. "Hey, Liv," she says softly.

Olivia gives her a weary smile in return, shrugging out of her trench coat and blazer, kicking off her high heeled boots, leaving her in a silky midnight blue sleeveless blouse and slate grey dress pants. She runs a tired hand through her hair and then holds out her arms, Amanda stepping gratefully into her embrace, closing her eyes and laying her head on Olivia's shoulder as the older woman's arms wrap around her, immediately engulfed in warmth and safety and that familiar hint of vanilla perfume. For a brief moment the events of her own day fade in her mind, and she feels a slight lessening of the rage and anxiety bubbling within her.

"I'm sorry you had such an awful day, Liv," she whispers, her hands smoothing up and down the back of the other woman's wrinkled shirt.

"Yeah, it was a tough one," Olivia acknowledges, voice slightly hushed, and Amanda tightens her hold on the older woman as she detects a hint of a tremble in her tone. "I'm just happy to be home."

"I'm happy you're home too," she replies, pressing a light kiss to the side of Olivia's neck. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Amanda, I don't think that's a good idea-"

The tone of the older woman's voice instantly changes from weary sadness to guarded concern, and Amanda stifles a sigh, biting down on her lower lip to control the spike of anger that leaps out of that quietly simmering rage, but she reminds herself that her anger is not with Olivia and it is not okay to unleash her temper on the woman she loves. "Liv, I've spent half the day watching the news," she interrupts, pulling away and taking a step back from the other woman. "You don't have to protect me from the details when they've been splashed all over the internet and TV for hours now. It's very upsetting and disturbing, but I'm not going to have a breakdown."

"Sorry, honey," Olivia replies, reaching out to grasp her hand and give it a comforting squeeze. "You're right; I don't need to protect you from something that's public knowledge now. I'm too tired to talk about it tonight, though, okay? I appreciate the offer, but I'm dead on my feet here, and to be honest, if we start discussing it, I don't think I'm going to be able to hold it together." She pauses briefly and there is a slight shimmer in her dark eyes, a glint of tears that disappear with a rapid blink. "It's been a _really_ bad day."

"I'm sorry, Liv," Amanda whispers, stepping back into her embrace, the older woman's arms closing around her once again. "I wish I could have been there with you today. I want to be there with you this week, with Fin and Carisi, helping put those bastards behind bars."

"I know you want to be there, but I don't think this is the right time for you to be returning to work; not with this particular case," Olivia says gently, but with that undercurrent of firmness that suggests arguing the matter would not be in Amanda's best interest at the moment. "I'm sure you'll be back soon enough. You just need some more time to heal and get back on your feet." She feels the older woman's hand stroking soothingly through her long hair. "How was the appointment with Dr. Lindstrom today? I'm sorry we haven't had time to talk about it yet."

Amanda stiffens in her arms and tries to take a step back again, before Olivia can feel the shuddering of her limbs that have started up once more, the racing, uncontrollable beat of her heart; and she wants to contain the anxiety and rage concerning her suddenly unknown future, doesn't wish to burden the older woman after such a terrible day, especially when she knows the rest of the week is not likely to be much better for her.

"What's wrong, baby?" Olivia asks softly, arms tightening around Amanda's trembling form before she can escape her embrace. "You're shaking. Did the appointment not go well? It didn't go the way you wanted it to?"

"That's the understatement of the year," Amanda mutters bitterly.

Olivia is leaning slightly away from her now, hands gently gripping both sides of Amanda's face, thumbs softly stroking against her cheekbones. "What happened, honey? Talk to me."

Amanda swallows hard and looks away, that anger at herself, at her circumstances, at her inability to control the direction her life is taking, once again pushing through and exploding to the surface; but the guilt is still sitting there as well, the knowledge that Olivia has the weight of the world on her shoulders and doesn't deserve to have another heavy burden added to her already brutal, taxing day. "Liv, I know it's been a really bad day for you, so maybe now is not the time to discuss this-"

"Amanda, talk to me," Olivia urges sternly. "What's happening at work is terrible, but it doesn't mean I don't want to hear about what's going on with you; it doesn't mean that what you're going through is not important."

Amanda stares at her for a moment, taking in the loving, patient, empathetic gaze of the older woman, and then blows out a breath, teeth clenching slightly together before she speaks. "It's been nearly six weeks since the assault, over a month since all of my anxiety and flashbacks and nightmares have started..." She trails off hesitantly, and Olivia nods at her to continue, reaching down to hold both of Amanda's hands in her own, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently.

"Dr. Lindstrom decided it was time to do a screening for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, since some time has passed now. He said that based on everything that has been happening for the past several weeks, taking into account all of my symptoms and my inability to cope properly, he thought I would meet the criteria..." She trails off again and cannot stop seem to stop the harsh laugh that escapes from her mouth, the sharp bitterness of her tone. "And guess what? He was right. I passed with flying colors."

"Oh, sweetheart-"

Amanda disentangles their hands and sidesteps out of Olivia's reach, a sudden need for space, and wraps her arms around herself, trying to get a handle on the now very obvious shuddering that has overtaken her entire body. "He's referring me to an intensive outpatient program at Mount Sinai Hospital for further assessment and treatment. They deal with PTSD and all of the shit that accompanies it, like the anxiety disorder and the eating issues. I guess there are a lot of different ways they can try to help, like cognitive behavioral therapy and medication and group therapy. He is very concerned with my progress, or lack thereof."

"Amanda-"

She takes another step away from Olivia as the older woman reaches out for her again, eyes bright with unshed tears, fists clenched tightly down at her sides. "The treatment is long, Liv," she says in a hushed voice. "It's usually three to six months, and that's only if everything is going well; if I respond to the treatment and my symptoms subside enough to start living more normally again. It could be much longer." She swipes an arm over her face, desperate to keep the overwhelming emotions at bay, because she knows she is on the verge of exploding and that the explosion won't be able to be contained once it is let loose. "There's a bit of a waiting list, so I'm going to continue to see Dr. Lindstrom a few times a week until I can get in. And he wants me to keep going to the Gamblers Anonymous meetings as much as possible." She bites down hard on her lower lip to stop the whimper that is trying to escape. "I don't know when I can come back to work, Liv."

"Sweetheart, your job will be waiting for you whenever you are able to come back," Olivia assures her softly, and Amanda can see the shine of tears in the older woman's eyes again, knows that this time they are for her and not for the horrors of what her boss has been enduring at work. "I promise you will still have a job when it's right for you to return, when you've taken the appropriate amount of time you need to heal."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Liv," Amanda mutters, her tone strangled and harsh, throat choked with the angry tears she is determined to hold in. "What if I can never come back?"

"Then we'll deal with it if and when that happens," Olivia says quietly. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves here; let's just take things as they come and try not to look too far into the future right now. I know it's a hard thing to do, but we just need to concentrate on what's happening right here and now, okay?" She stares intently at Amanda and reaches out an arm again, as if desperate to make a physical connection with her.

"I do believe you will get better, though, Amanda," she continues softly. "I know this isn't what you wanted to hear today, and it's not an easy thing to do, but can you try to look at this in a positive way? Dr. Lindstrom has identified the problem, which, if I'm being completely honest with you, honey, is not a surprise; and you're going to get the proper treatment for it now. I know everything seems uncertain at the moment, but I think this gives you a lot of hope for the future, sweetheart, I really do."

"'Hope for the future'?" Amanda murmurs incredulously, a hint of a growl in her tone now. "Ever the optimist, aren't you, Liv?"

"It's okay to be angry, Amanda," Olivia assures her gently, sympathetic gaze still fixed on her, limbs twitching slightly as if it is taking everything she has to give Amanda her space, to not step over there and wrap her up in her arms. "The anger is a good thing. It means that you're ready to fight, that there's still a spark there, that you haven't given up."

"I'm not angry, Liv, I'm fucking _furious_ ," she chokes out, watching Olivia give a surprised blink at the sudden amount of venom in her tone. "If I could go back in time to that night in the alley, I would kill that asshole with my bare hands for what he has done to me, for everything he has taken away from me; my job, my sanity, my life. And then I would wait for his friend to pull the car around and I would kill him too." Amanda is panting so hard, she can hardly catch her breath, the frenzied rage almost blinding in its intensity, the room whirling dizzily around her now, and she is seemingly unable to stop the words that come pouring out from between her lips; the foul language, the threat to inflict mortal harm upon others.

She turns to slump against the wall, raking her hands roughly through her hair and giving the long blonde tresses a sharp yank, trying to pull herself away from the edge, that urge to open her mouth and let loose with a long wail, to start screaming at the immense amount of pain that has built up within her; at what this man, this stranger who was in and out of her life in a matter of minutes, had taken from her, at what she had _let_ him take from her, the way she has chosen to respond to her own trauma, continuing to sink when she should have been learning to swim.

"It's my fault," she murmurs with a sudden clarity. "This is all my fault. I blame other people but I'm the one who let it get this far, I'm the one who can't get over it, I'm the one who can't get control of my own damn life."

"Baby, this is _not_ your fault," Olivia whispers intensely, striding over to pull Amanda upright so that her back is against the wall, the older woman's hands braced on either side of her head, palms flat and fingers splayed out to the sides. "And I understand that wish to go back in time, to hurt the person who hurt you; even that need to take a life. Believe me, Amanda, I understand it all too well."

Their faces are only inches apart, and they stare hard at each other, Olivia's breathing sounding almost as loud as her own now, and Amanda grips onto the other woman's wrists with trembling fingers, squeezing tightly when she sees the tears pooling in Olivia's eyes, the incredible amount of guilt that stabs through her almost enough to obliterate every other emotion and thought from her brain. As if it wasn't enough to burden the older woman with all of her issues after the day Olivia has just endured, she knows her boss is now thinking of Lewis and what she had done to survive her time with him.

She wonders yet again what it is that Olivia sees in her, what she can possibly find in her that is worth loving, and she knows that this is just another thing that has been taken away from her, something else that she has lost; the ability to be able to see herself in anything but a negative, ugly, unflattering light. Amanda wonders if she will ever be able to see herself from Olivia's point of view, if she will ever be able to understand why the older woman has chosen to be with her when she can have anyone she wants, the array of possibilities seemingly endless.

She continues to waffle back and forth constantly on begging Olivia to stay and not leave her alone, not to give up on her before she is healed; but also wanting to cut her loose, to give her the opportunity to find someone stable, someone sane, someone who will make her happy, the ability to have a normal relationship; and she is not sure if she will ever be able to fully accept the fact that Olivia does indeed love her and wants to make a home with her, that there are no strings attached, that the older woman fully accepts her for who she is, flaws and all. Not for the first time, she finds herself incredibly stunned by this realization and doesn't know what she has done to deserve someone like this in her life; when she is such a complete and utter mess, her life still in shambles several weeks after her downfall, continuing to stumble around incoherently like she doesn't know which way is up.

Amanda sucks her bottom lip between her teeth again, noticing Olivia's frown at the movement, and she slides her hands from the older woman's wrists to lightly grip the sides of her face, mirroring Olivia's earlier actions. "Look, Liv," she starts out softly. "I know this is more than what you bargained for, okay? You probably weren't expecting to spend your life with someone who has PTSD. It might be best if I just-"

"Amanda, _don't_ ," Olivia interrupts in a hiss, the sudden snarl in her voice replacing the soft, empathetic tone, and Amanda jumps, momentarily startled at the instant change. "Don't you dare threaten to walk away from this relationship because you are incorrectly assuming yet _again_ that I can't handle you, that I need space, that I deserve more. The only thing that has gotten me through this hellish day was knowing I could come home to you, whichever version of you that might be waiting for me; happy, sad, angry, whatever. I want every version of you that there is, okay? And if you walk away because of some perceived unfulfillment on my part, if you shut me out again, I will never get over it. _Ever_ ," she states firmly, stormy dark eyes locked onto Amanda's wide open blue ones. "If I have to remind you every single day that you are worth loving, then I will. I will keep reminding you until you finally start to believe it and you realize that I am telling you the truth."

There is complete and utter silence for a long moment when Olivia stops speaking, neither of them making a move but unable to tear their eyes away from one another, and then Amanda is suddenly throwing herself into Olivia's arms, kissing her frantically, one hand sliding up into the older woman's thick dark hair, gripping the silky strands harder than she means to, the other fisting onto the back of Olivia's shirt, likely causing it to wrinkle even more than it already has. Her boss responds immediately, arms winding around Amanda's back and pulling her firmly against her chest, tongue slipping between her lips, and Amanda feels a sharp spike of arousal; anger and lust and love winding together to create an overwhelming sensation, causing her heart to race out of control and sweat to bloom along her forehead. There is a dampness between her legs now, and she shifts back and forth in Olivia's embrace, trying to relieve some of the rapidly building pressure.

They somehow make it over to the couch, Olivia's feet moving in an awkward backwards shuffle and pulling Amanda down with her, sprawling together in a tangled heap of limbs against the cushions, Amanda straddling the other woman's hips and leaning down to claim her lips again as she struggles with the buttons on her boss' blouse, desperate to feel Olivia's warm, bare skin against her own. After another minute of furious, desperate kissing, her clumsy, overeager fingers apparently unable to pop the buttons on Olivia's shirt, she slowly becomes aware that the older woman no longer seems to be an active participant in this sudden, frenzied need they both share.

Amanda sits back with a frown, hands smoothing up underneath Olivia's blouse, gliding across the goosebumps on her stomach, fingers tracing small patterns on the overheated skin. She watches the older woman's eyes drift closed and hears the slight moan escape her parted lips as she slides her hands higher, one fingertip trailing suggestively along the lacy edge of Olivia's bra.

"Liv," she murmurs, her own voice dragging out on a moan now, and she envelops the other woman's breasts with her hands, squeezing gently over her bra, the strangled noise that emits from Olivia's throat causing even more wetness to pool between her legs, rolling her pelvis against the older woman.

"Why did you stop?" she whispers, and Olivia opens her eyes to fix her with that liquid dark gaze, the amount of passion and lust she sees there startling her, but she can recognize the regret as well, and she frowns again, realizing how this is going to play out even before Olivia says the words.

"Liv, I _need_ you," she groans raggedly into her ear as she lays down on top of her boss once again, covering Olivia's body with her own, molding into the taller woman like she is meant to fit there, and very intent on changing her mind. " _Please_."

"Honey, we need to slow down," Olivia says softly, just like Amanda has predicted she would, and she bites down hard on her lower lip as the older woman's hands smooth across her back in what is likely meant to be a comforting gesture, but only succeeds in further igniting the fire that is building within her. "We've both had very bad days, you especially-"

"Which is exactly why we _shouldn't_ slow down," Amanda interjects, face pressed into Olivia's warm neck now, tongue sliding across moist, pebbled skin. "I need this, Liv, we _both_ do."

"I know you're angry and upset and you need some time to come to terms with what Dr. Lindstrom has told you," Olivia continues gently, and it is obvious by the hitch in her breathing that she is also trying to convince herself that they need to stop. "It's not the right time, sweetheart."

"Well, when is the right time?" Amanda growls in frustration, that anger edging its way back into her tone again, just wanting to forget her appointment with Dr. Lindstrom for the time being, and to stop dwelling in the darkness of her life, even if just for a few moments. "If not now, then when? Based on the way things are going here, Liv, I could have a complete nervous breakdown tomorrow, and then we'd be kicking ourselves for not just doing it."

Olivia chuckles quietly, her hands still smoothing up and down Amanda's back. "Honey, it's not right," she reiterates quietly.

"Which is all the more reason to do it," Amanda insists. "Do you ever just do something without thinking it through first, Liv? Who cares if it's not the right time?"

"I care," Olivia replies firmly. "I don't want to take advantage of you when you're going through all of this, when I know how devastated you are. I'm sorry I let myself get carried away."

Amanda rolls her eyes impatiently, not in the mood to be treated like she is made of glass, like she will break at the slightest hint of sexual contact, especially when it is obvious that the older woman is just as turned on as she is. "Stop apologizing for everything, Liv. It's okay, I _want_ you to get carried away. And if you're worried about taking advantage of me in my highly vulnerable state, you can't take advantage of someone if they're an enthusiastic, willing, active participant." There is a wry note to her tone now and she huffs out an exasperated breath against Olivia's neck.

"Honey, I want to be with you more than anything," the older woman assures her softly, her whispering voice in Amanda's ear causing a shiver to run down her spine. "You have no idea what you do to me, how you make me feel. But I don't want it to be like this, sweetheart. You were so distraught when I got home. You're not in a very good head space right now. I can practically feel the anger radiating off of you."

"Okay, fine, I'll just go take care of it myself, then," Amanda mutters in a disgruntled tone, sitting up again and crossing her arms over her chest as she continues to straddle the other woman's hips.

Olivia quirks an eyebrow at her. "You mean-"

"Yes," Amanda interrupts, voice casual now, and she had meant it in a teasing way, a little silly revenge for the annoyed rejection she is feeling, but the ache between her legs is suggesting that she might have to do just that in order to get a bit of relief. "That's exactly what I mean. I'll just go into the bedroom for a little while, and you can stay right here on the couch. Maybe watch a little TV. You can see if that Jim Carrey movie marathon is on again," she suggests lightly, biting the inside of her cheek when she sees the look on Olivia's face.

"Wow, you are in quite a mood tonight," Olivia mutters, staring up at her and shaking her head, but Amanda can detect that hint of arousal in her expression, can feel the way the taller woman is trembling slightly beneath her.

"Well, you said you wanted me, no matter what the version," she says blithely. "So this is the version you're getting. Horny and enraged."

Olivia laughs suddenly, rubbing her hands over her face in an exhausted manner, like she is not sure how she is supposed to feel about the situation, what the appropriate response is. "Oh, that is not a good combination, Amanda," she chuckles tiredly. "Maybe I should take back what I said about being able to handle you. You're kind of all over the place here. I honestly don't know what to do with you."

Amanda arches a suggestive eyebrow. "You can watch if you want," she offers, that urge to tease still strong, lip turning up at the corner when she sees the feigned look of disinterest on Olivia's face, clashing almost comically with the hot blush spreading rapidly across her cheeks. "It's not often that I get to see the shy side of you, Liv," she smirks, reaching down to poke the other woman gently in the ribs.

Olivia stares up at her in silence, and Amanda can hear the slightly ragged edge to her breathing, can see the way her dark eyes are dilated with need, the older woman's shirt still rucked up around her ribs, smooth olive skin peeking out from beneath the material, and the wave of guilt that crashes over is intense and all-consuming. She knows Olivia is just trying to do the right thing, only wants to be respectful and careful after the hell that Amanda has been through that day, and that older woman is having a hard time getting control of herself, that there is likely a war going on Olivia's head as her brain is telling her to do one thing while her body is urging her to do another.

All Amanda wants to do is forget everything just for one evening, to be able to push all of her darkness to the side, and for Olivia to do the same, and a sigh of resignation escapes her mouth as she slides off of the older woman's body and plops down next to her on the couch, knowing that it is just not going to happen, at least not right now. She curls into the pillow that is leaning against the armrest, and feels Olivia snuggle up behind her, arms sliding around her waist and chin resting on her shoulder.

"So you're not going into the bedroom and leaving me out here to watch TV, then?" the older woman whispers, a hint of amusement mixing in with her obvious concern, and Amanda snorts lightly, shaking her head.

"No, Liv," she murmurs, reaching down to squeeze her boss' hands. "I'll stay here with you."

"Good," Olivia whispers, pulling Amanda tighter against her chest. "Are you okay?"

Amanda is quiet for a moment, the varying emotions of the day playing through her mind, and she is suddenly completely drained, feeling like she has been on a wild roller coaster, the ride leaving her dizzy and shaking and not sure which way is up. "No," she replies softly, shaking her head. "I'm not okay." She pauses for a moment, her head bowed, long hair obscuring her face. "But I want to be, Liv. I want more than anything to be okay."

"I know you do." Olivia says gently, turning her around and swiping the hair out of her face before placing a tender kiss on her forehead. "You will be, Amanda, I truly believe that."

Amanda gazes searchingly at the older woman, the love and worry radiating from Olivia's intense dark eyes causing a warmth to bloom inside her chest, and she leans forward to press a return kiss to her lips. "I hope you're right, Liv."


	19. Chapter 19

**Warning: This chapter is rated "M" for very explicit sexual content, so please be aware of this if you don't enjoy reading about that kind of thing or if it offends you. _  
_**

xxx

Amanda is sitting on the kitchen counter, legs swinging back and forth, heels banging with intermittent dull thuds into the cupboards below her, digging determinedly through a jar of peanut butter with a spoon. She is clad in a blue and white checkered plaid shirt and a pair of purple cotton panties, having shed her jeans as soon as she had walked in the door, deciding it was more comfortable to just lounge around in her underwear instead of remaining fully clothed. Her long blonde hair is still mussed from the chilly fall wind, the cold breeze creating a rosy blush across her pale cheeks that likely matches the bloodshot redness of her eyes.

It is early Friday evening, the late autumn light already having been leached from the sky, and she is too tired and depleted from her day to even think about trying to make dinner for she and Olivia. There is a slight amount of guilt residing inside of her as she raises the spoon to her lips, licking off a giant glob of peanut butter, the salty snack in lieu of an actual meal, as she knows the older woman is likely starving after her long day, this hellish week finally winding down to an exhausting close. Her colleagues are still deep in the thick of the sprawling, seemingly ever-expanding child abuse case that has only worsened as the days have passed, and it looks like this particular case won't be coming to an end anytime soon, as new evidence and suspects have continued to come to light over the past several days.

Amanda rests the back of her head wearily against the cupboard behind her, gazing up at the ceiling, her thoughts fixed on Olivia, the other woman having doggedly dragged herself through the past week, a bone-deep fatigue seeming to settle over her as the case has unfolded further and new horrors have been revealed, and she is quite worried for the other woman; can't remember a time in all the years they have known each other that Olivia has been this spent and so lacking in energy. She knows that she herself is definitely not helping the situation, as her boss has had to work overtime all week, dealing with the usual distressing, appalling details of her job, only to end each day by coming home to Amanda and her continually impressive array of issues. She has tried to keep some of the problems hidden; has not let on how bad the nightmares still are or that she has still been experiencing flashbacks on a regular basis, instead choosing to unload all of her issues on Dr. Lindstrom, having been much more open with him this past week than she ever has before.

Since Monday morning, Amanda has had three appointments with the therapist, the latest one taking place early that afternoon, followed immediately by a Gamblers Anonymous meeting, as it had been necessary to curb that sudden overwhelming urge to gamble after the disturbing topics she and the doctor had discussed, delving deeper into her past and the explicit details of her assault. She is trying to get back into a routine while remaining on the waiting list for the PTSD outpatient program at Mount Sinai Hospital, and everything that has been happening that week, all of the appointments and the meetings and forcing herself to go for regular jogs in the park again, on the advice of Dr. Lindstrom; have taken their toll on her, and the only thing Amanda wants at the moment is to be wrapped up in Olivia's safe embrace, desperate for the older woman's presence to banish all of the monsters from her head. She wants to have a good night with her boss, wants the weekend to get off to a much better start than the previous one, when it had begun with the unfortunate movie theater meltdown, and she is eager for the other woman to return home, still surprised by how much she misses her during the work week; how much she continues to want Olivia there with her for every single second of the day, her neediness and clinginess seemingly never abating.

"Oh, this is classy," a wry voice suddenly remarks, and Amanda's head snaps down to see Olivia leaning against the refrigerator door, trench coat slung over an arm and a bag of Chinese food clutched in one hand, shaking her head slightly at the scene in front of her. "I didn't know we were having an appetizer before dinner."

"You've been concerned about my lack of appetite, Liv," Amanda says with a shrug, a grin spreading across her face and a warm relief unfurling in her chest at the sight of the woman she loves, the events of the day fading somewhat in her mind. "So I'm eating."

"You're eating peanut butter straight out of the jar with a spoon," Olivia states, an eyebrow raised in dismay as she sets the bag of Chinese food on the table and drapes her coat over one of the chairs.

"Yup," Amanda answers, entirely unconcerned with the situation.

"And sitting on the counter in your underwear." There is a slight pause. "Where we prepare food."

"Yup," Amanda repeats. "I wanted to be comfortable." The smile is still playing at her lips, and there is a mischievous lilt to her tone when she speaks again. "Just be glad I'm not sitting here naked, Liv."

"Well, that would be very unsanitary," Olivia replies in a no-nonsense voice, arms crossing over her chest as she continues to regard Amanda with one eyebrow raised, an inscrutable look on her face now.

Amanda throws back her head and bursts into laughter. "Wow, Liv, really? If I was sitting here stark naked, that's what you would be thinking about? How unsanitary it is?" She gives the spoon a long, slow lick, twirling her tongue leisurely around the metal, one eyebrow arching suggestively.

Olivia smirks and walks over to her, taking the spoon out of her hand and setting it in the sink, expression slightly challenging. "Yes, that's exactly what I would be thinking about. Just that, and nothing else."

"Okay, sure," Amanda snorts, putting the jar down on the counter and leaning forward to loop her arms around the back of the older woman's neck, bringing their faces closer together. "Not really much of a romantic, are you there, Liv? Maybe you need some lessons in romance."

"Maybe _you_ do," Olivia says dryly, both eyebrows raised now, shaking her head again as they regard each other. "Your breath smells like peanut butter and you've got it stuck in your teeth."

"Do I?" Amanda asks innocently, tongue poking out to run back and forth along the front of her teeth, and then licking slowly around her lips in a lascivious, dramatic gesture. "Oh, that's too bad, because I was just about to give you a big welcome home kiss."

"No, you weren't," Olivia answers flatly, but Amanda can see the corner of her lip twitching, as if she is trying to suppress a smile and remain stern.

"Yes, I was," she argues, arms tightening around the back of the older woman's neck, tugging her closer and trapping Olivia's body between her thighs. "I missed you today, Liv. And I wanted to show you just how _much_ I missed you."

"You can just tell me instead of showing me," her boss replies, that flat expression still in her tone, but the edge of her lip lifting even more, and the older woman shifts in her embrace as if she is about to bolt.

"No, I'd rather show you," Amanda insists firmly, trying to keep from giggling as she winds her legs around Olivia's waist and locks one hand around the back of her neck, grabbing onto the older woman's face with the other, and trying to hold her in place as Olivia struggles to escape her advances with a very undignified squeal.

Amanda tugs her boss impossibly closer, planting a wet, sloppy peanut-flavored kiss directly on her lips, and lingering for as long as possible as the other woman continues to try to pull away, squirming in her embrace, both of them laughing now.

"Ugh, that was really gross," Olivia groans, wiping a hand across her face when Amanda finally lets up and backs away slightly, leaning her head against the cupboard behind her again, fixing the older woman with a satisfied expression.

"Was it as good for you as it was for me?" she teases, wiggling her eyebrows up and down.

"No, it really wasn't," Olivia mutters, still sputtering with both disgust and amusement, and Amanda's mouth turns down in an exaggerated pout.

"Wow, that hurts my feelings, Liv," she replies with a heavy sigh. "Just be happy I didn't use my tongue," she adds cheekily.

Olivia rolls her eyes and snickers, bracing her hands on either side of the counter where Amanda is sitting, that penetrating dark gaze boring into her own. "So are you going to tell me why you're in your underwear, eating peanut butter directly from the jar? Is this an indication of how your day has gone?"

"I don't know," Amanda mumbles, turning her head away, not at all interested in discussing the events of the day.

"You don't know?" Olivia asks, eyebrows raised again, and Amanda feels a gentle hand on her cheek, guiding her head back around and urging her to maintain eye contact with the older woman.

"Well, what else am I supposed to do, Liv?" she says, wincing as her voice drags out in an unintended whine. "I'm stuck with this stupid PTSD that is ruling my entire life, and I'm just counting down the days until that program at the hospital has an opening, where I can be smothered by even more therapists and addiction groups and self help crap than I already am. What's the point in doing anything else?" Amanda's voice remains light and teasing, but her words no longer match her tone, and she bites the inside of her cheek, not wanting to lose the silly mood between them, but realizing that is exactly what is about to happen.

"Amanda." Olivia is frowning at her now, the mirth fading from her expression and concern taking its place.

"What?" she murmurs, looking away again.

"It hurts to hear you talk like that," the older woman says softly.

"Sorry, Liv," she replies quietly. "I'm just telling the truth, though. There is literally nothing else for me to do right now, okay? Everything seems to revolve around the PTSD and I feel like I'm not getting any breaks from it all. I miss just living my normal life; going to work, seeing my boys, actually getting to spend the day with you; helping to do some good in this city, like I used to do."

"I know, honey," Olivia answers sympathetically, one hand still resting against Amanda's cheek and the other grasping onto her shoulder now, leaning closer as if to get a better look at her face. "Why are your eyes so red?" she asks gently, and it is obvious that she is trying to reestablish eye contact between them.

Amanda shrugs, still determined to avert her gaze, shame creeping through her. "Probably because I've been crying all day."

"Oh, sweetheart." Olivia pulls her into an embrace, and Amanda lays her head against the taller woman's shoulder, closing her eyes in exhaustion, her previously lighthearted mood seeming to drain right out of her. "Why have you been crying all day? Did the appointment not go well again?"

Amanda shrugs once more. "It depends on what your definition of 'well' is. Dr. Lindstrom thought it went well because I was more open than I've ever been before. We delved deeper into some things from my past, and we talked more about the assault, and I guess it just opened up the floodgates. I couldn't stop crying. I cried like a baby for the entire hour. I was so devastated afterwards, I had to go to a meeting because all I wanted to do was gamble." She sighs wearily, the feeling of shame deepening as she recalls the last several hours of her day. "Then I cried all through the meeting. I've never done that before. I've never cried in an appointment or a meeting. I don't know what happened. It was so embarrassing and that just made me cry even more."

"It's okay to be emotional, honey," Olivia assures her quietly, hand smoothing comfortingly up and down her back. "I know it's not something that's easy for you to do, opening up and showing your emotions in front of other people, unless it's me, but it's normal with everything that's going on right now. It's okay to have days like this, where all you can do is cry. I think that's part of the healing process. It's good for you to just let it all out sometimes, with someone other than me."

Amanda is silent for a long moment, and Olivia strokes a hand over her head, as if she knows Amanda's thoughts are starting to spiral away into darkness and is trying to bring her back to the present. "Why don't we sit down and have some dinner, sweetheart? The Chinese food is going to get cold. We can continue our discussion while we eat. And we can sit on actual chairs like the classy, mature women we are, _not_ on the counter," she adds in a stern, wry tone, and Amanda chuckles, burying her face into the older woman's windblown dark hair, not making a move toward the kitchen table, instead wrapping her arms and legs more firmly around her.

"Uh oh, you're clinging to me like a monkey again," Olivia points out in a teasing voice, jostling her lightly and poking her in the ribs. "Am I supposed to carry you over to the table?"

"Okay," Amanda murmurs in assent, hands clutching onto the back of her boss' blazer, not wishing to be physically separated again, even just to have a meal.

Olivia laughs quietly. "What is it with you and wanting to be carried?"

"It makes me feel safe when you carry me," Amanda admits softly, and she feels the older woman's arms tighten protectively around her.

"Well, I'm glad I make you feel safe, sweetheart." Olivia pauses briefly, and her voice sounds slightly strained when she speaks again. "Have you not felt safe today?"

Amanda shakes her head against the older woman's shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to suppress the shiver that runs through her body.

"How come?" Olivia asks gently, fingers threading through the tangles in her long hair.

"I didn't like talking about everything today," Amanda whispers. "I didn't like crying in front of everyone. It made me feel so..." She trails off, uncertain of the word she is searching for.

"Vulnerable?" Olivia supplies quietly.

Amanda nods, her face still buried in the older woman's hair as they speak. "Yeah.. I only want to do that stuff with you, Liv...the talking and the crying. I don't want to share with anyone else; it's a hard thing to do. I feel like it's no one else's business."

"I know honey. I understand that, I really do," Olivia replies, rocking her back and forth tenderly. "But you need to remember that the appointments and the meetings are to help you, and that it's okay to talk about the hard stuff, that it's necessary to get everything out into the open so it doesn't continue to eat you up inside, so you can try to move forward with your recovery."

"I just want this part to be over and done with," Amanda murmurs. "I feel like I'm still at the beginning, like this is never going to end, like I'm never going to get a break." Her voice cracks slightly. "I'm so tired, Liv."

"I know, sweetheart, I know," Olivia says softly. "Tell me what I can do for you. Tell me how me how I can make things a bit better for you right here and now, right at this moment."

Amanda winds her legs more firmly around Olivia's hips and locks her arms around her neck. "Just don't let go of me," is her whispered reply into the older woman's ear. "Please."

She feels Olivia's arms tighten around her in response. "I won't," the older woman whispers back. "I've got you, baby."

They are quiet for a few minutes, just holding onto one another, heads resting upon shoulders and arms wound around backs, each feeling the heartbeat of the other, neither of them moving now, both completely still. This is the first time all day that Amanda has actually felt calm and at peace, and she grasps onto the feeling, trying to savor it, not knowing how long it is going to last and wanting to keep ahold of it. This is what she has been looking forward to for the entire day, since they had climbed out of bed early that morning, what she has been desperately craving during all those painful hours of hard conversation and self reflection and weeping in front of strangers; just being in Olivia's arms and basking in the safety and security and love that always accompanies the other woman's presence and embrace.

"Amanda, I hate leaving you alone all day while I go to work," Olivia finally says softly, breaking the silence between them. "I wish I could be here with you for everything."

"Me too, Liv," Amanda replies, and she has to swallow down a sudden wave of emotion, blinking back a flood of tears. "I want you here all the time. It's so lonely without you. I miss you so much when you're gone."

"I miss you too," Olivia murmurs, voice somewhat choked up now, and Amanda hears the older woman clear her throat, as if resolving not to break down, and her heart aches for the pain she is putting her boss through. "Let's go sit on the couch, where it's more comfortable. I promise I won't let go of you, okay?"

Amanda nods into her shoulder and feels herself being pulled forward, body sliding across the hard surface of the counter, instinctively tightening her arms and legs around the older woman once again.

"Alright, come on, little monkey." Olivia lifts her off the counter, making good on her word and not even attempting to try to untangle herself from Amanda's clutches, carrying her the few short steps to the couch, where they sprawl ungracefully onto the cushions together as the taller woman loses her footing slightly, both of them erupting into sudden giggles.

"Well, I meant to do that a little less awkwardly," Olivia chuckles, pulling Amanda into her lap and tugging the blanket off the back of the couch to wrap them both inside the cozy, warm material.

"I thought you were worried about the food getting cold, Liv," Amanda mumbles, pushing her face into the other woman's neck and closing her eyes, breathing in the comforting, familiar scent of vanilla.

"The food doesn't matter," Olivia replies softly, hand smoothing up and down the arm of Amanda's plaid shirt. "Let's just sit here for a bit first."

"Okay," Amanda murmurs gratefully, sliding her arms around her boss' waist and kissing her collarbone, lips lingering there for a long moment.

Olivia places a return kiss on her forehead and then leans down to press her cheek against Amanda's. "By the way, you still smell like peanut butter," she whispers.

Amanda cracks an eye open and laughs, sticking her tongue out at the older woman, and then snuggles deeper into the blanket and Olivia's embrace.

xxx

They spend the next few hours cocooned together on the couch, eating somewhat chilled Chinese food, chatting about mundane, unimportant topics and laughing at the silly movies they find on TV. Amanda feels much more loose and relaxed and at ease now that Olivia has been home with her for a little while and they have been doing their best to keep the evening light, not delving into any deep conversation. She has been so appreciative of the older woman's care and concern for her well being, and she finds herself feeling quite emotional at times, overcome with an immense amount of love for her boss, the realization that she is actually very lucky despite all that she has been through, that she has this incredible woman by her side for the good times as well as the bad, but she keeps her strong emotions to herself, just wanting to enjoy their time together and not eager to risk shedding more tears than she already has that day.

Amanda is very comfortable and calm, tucked between Olivia's legs on the couch, her back resting against the older woman's chest, the blanket pulled up over their bodies, and she becomes aware of Olivia's fingers tracing light patterns over the front of her shirt as they chat, the television playing on a low volume in the background. The other woman seems to be doing it absentmindedly as she talks, as if unaware of the motions she is making, telling a silly story from her college days, and the more Amanda tries to listen, the more she finds herself becoming distracted by the gentle touches, eager to feel Olivia's hands on her bare skin instead of her clothing. She shifts positions subtly as her boss continues to speak and her shirt rides up slightly in the front, so that the next time Olivia's fingers circle lower on her stomach, they come into contact with her warm skin instead of the plaid material.

The other woman pauses briefly in conversation, both her voice and her hands coming to a sudden halt, and Amanda bites her lip for a moment, waiting for Olivia to say something about the change in position, but she doesn't. Amanda lets out a soft sigh, eyes drifting closed in contentment as her boss begins speaking again, fingernails scraping lightly along her bare skin, pleasant tingles radiating from her head to her toes.

This continues on for several minutes, Olivia still sharing lighthearted stories of her youth, and Amanda trying to contain the rapidly building arousal inside of her, hoping it will just sit there beneath the surface at a low simmer instead of exploding out of her like it seems intent on doing. The older woman's fingers have been making ever-widening circles across her skin, occasionally grazing the underside of her bra and the waistband of her panties, and Amanda can feel a light perspiration breaking out all over her body, her heart rate picking up, that immense need she has to be with her boss in an intimate way demanding to be acknowledged and not shoved to the side once again.

She suddenly grabs Olivia's hands, halting them in their tracks and lacing their fingers together, squeezing tightly, unable to ignore her intense feelings any longer. "Liv, you're driving me crazy," she murmurs, drawing their joined hands higher up her body so they are resting just beneath her breasts.

"Amanda..." She can feel the older woman's heart rate picking up as well, the rapid beat pounding against her back, and she lets go of Olivia's hands so she can undo the buttons on her plaid shirt, feeling her boss' fingers twitching on her skin, as if Olivia wants to reach higher again but is holding herself back.

She lets her shirt fall open and pulls the blanket down to her waist, exposing the purple and white striped bra she is wearing, hearing the other woman's slight intake of breath behind her. Olivia's fingers begin moving against her skin again, slower this time, as if there is somewhat of an uncertainty there now, and the conversation appears to have ground to a complete stop, Olivia having been right in the middle of a story, but her words seem stuck in her throat now, and Amanda can't even recall what they had been talking about, the intense need to have Olivia's hands on her obliterating every single thought in her brain.

"Can you help me with this?" she asks softly, feeling bolder in stating what she wants to happen and preparing to lead them in that direction, sitting up between Olivia's legs and leaning forward slightly, shrugging out of her shirt and inviting the older woman to unclasp the back of her bra.

There is silence behind her for a moment, before she feels the other woman's hand caressing softly over her back, fingers tracing along the edge of her bra, and a shiver runs down her spine. "Please, Liv," she whispers.

"Are you sure this is okay?" Olivia asks, tone very low and trembling slightly, and her fingers flex against Amanda's ribs.

"Yes, it's okay," Amanda assures her gently, biting her lip in anticipation. "Please, Liv," she repeats, voice punctuated with her growing need.

She feels Olivia tenderly swiping her long hair out of the way and undoing the clasp on her bra with fumbling, shaky fingers, and Amanda's lip quirks up in a smile at the older woman's clumsy, awkward behavior; feeling a wave of warmth and affection for her shyness, for her obvious eagerness but also her hesitation, and she knows Olivia wants to make sure she is okay, is both concerned and turned on, and that it is a difficult state to be in, the different feelings likely at war inside of her. She slides the bra down her arms and tosses it to the floor before settling back against the other woman again, clad only in her purple cotton panties now, the material clinging to her damp skin, Olivia's arms wrapping around her stomach, hands clasping together underneath her ribs. Her nipples stiffen instantly as the chilly air hits them and her previously simmering arousal is now reaching staggering new heights.

"So, are you going to continue on with your story?" she asks, tone breathy and slightly teasing, as she still has no idea what they had even been talking about.

"What?" Olivia sounds distracted, like she is being pulled out of a trance, and Amanda arches her back as the older woman's hands slide higher, stroking just beneath her breasts. "What story?"

"You were telling a story..." Amanda reminds her, voice trailing off as her breath catches in her throat and her eyes squeeze shut, Olivia's hands finally reaching their destination, palming each of her breasts gently, hefting their slight weight into her hands, thumbs brushing ever so lightly across her hardened nipples.

"I don't remember..." Olivia seems to be having trouble speaking as well, and Amanda's back arches further into her body as the older woman leans down to place a lingering, open mouthed kiss against the side of her neck, hands continuing to massage her breasts with a somewhat firmer touch now.

"I don't either," Amanda breathes, a moan escaping her mouth, realizing she has soaked right through her panties now. "Fuck it, who cares about the story?"

Olivia sputters out a chuckle behind her, and Amanda can feel her shifting positions, grinding slightly into her backside, as if the older woman is not entirely comfortable and is trying to find some relief as well. She pushes back against her and hears a soft noise escape Olivia's mouth. "Yeah, you're right. Fuck it." Her boss' voice is somewhat choked, and Amanda chuckles at the other woman's apparent need, the lack of coherent thinking and concentration.

Olivia's hands continue to squeeze her breasts, harder now, thumbs circling continuously around her nipples, and her head is lolling back on the other woman's shoulder, moaning raggedly again, the arousal coiling tightly inside her and promising not to be contained for much longer. She is desperate for more contact, wants the older woman's hands on another part of her body, and as if reading her mind, Olivia's fingers suddenly begin to trail lower, tracing along her ribs and around her navel, before scraping the edge of her panties, and it is all Amanda can do not to grab onto one of her hands and thrust it lower, impatient to feel her touch.

Olivia's fingertips are slowly slipping beneath the waistband when Amanda's breath suddenly catches in her throat for an entirely different reason, her heart seizing painfully in her chest, and her body is instantly rigid, a darkness flooding through her brain, and for one brief second she is not there anymore, blinking to find herself in another location, gloomy and rainy and smelling of cigarette smoke, realizing that she can't see the person behind her and doesn't know what they are going to do, can't anticipate their movements. As quickly as the flashback has appeared, it is gone, and she knows she is on the couch in her own apartment, that it is Olivia behind her, touching her so gently and intimately, the person she trusts most in the world, the one person who would never hurt her, but there is an undercurrent of uneasiness and tension now, and she swallows hard, trying to maintain control of the situation, not wanting the older woman to realize what has happened, desperate to continue on with their night together unabated.

Amanda knows that it is impossible to keep anything from Olivia, though, and the older woman's hands slide to a stop against her skin, fingers coming up to grip her upper arms, trying to get her to turn around in her embrace. "Hey, are you okay, babe?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she says softly, trying to keep her voice from shaking, as Olivia's movements become more firm, forcibly turning her around so they are eye to eye now, a deepening frown on the other woman's face.

"What happened?" Olivia asks, concern giving way to a sterner tone of voice, dark gaze boring into her own, and she glances away briefly. "Do we need to stop, Amanda? Be honest with me."

"No," she whispers, heart aching at the thought of not continuing, chastising herself for being unable to maintain control of her issues at a time where it is absolutely imperative to do exactly that. "I just-"

"You just what?" Olivia questions softly, hands on either side of her face now, gazes locked on one another. "Did you have a flashback?"

Amanda bites her lower lip and the other woman swipes a thumb against her chin, reminding her to stop with the bad habit. "I just realized that I couldn't see you, Liv," she admits quietly. "I want to be able to see you so I know what's happening. I couldn't-" Her voice cuts off for a moment and she gathers herself. "I couldn't see...when it happened...he was behind me..."

"Oh, sweetheart." Olivia gathers her against her chest, lips pressed to the top of her blonde head, hands rubbing soothingly across her bare back. "I'm so sorry. It's just me here. You're safe. And I'll make sure to always stay where you can see me, okay? I want you to be able to trust me."

"I _do_ trust you, Liv," she insists, her heart breaking at the other woman's words, impatient and angry that the evening seems to be heading in the direction that the previous Friday had. She is determined not to let that happen, is resolute in having the night she wants to have with Olivia, the night they both need to have. "I know you would never hurt me and I know I'm safe with you. _I'm_ the one who should be sorry. It was stupid, to let myself think like that..."

"It's not stupid at all," Olivia says firmly, hands still grasping both sides of her face, gaze so deep and penetrating that Amanda ceases to breathe for a moment. "You need to be honest with me about everything at all times, honey. No matter what, okay? We can take things as slowly as you need to. We have all the time in the world to be together. Why don't we just try to calm down a bit right now, just take it easy?"

"No, Liv, please," Amanda protests, her own hands on Olivia's face now, desperate for the older woman to see that she is indeed okay, that she wants this to happen more than anything, that she is ready and willing and waiting. "I'm fine, I swear." She gulps hard, fingers grazing her boss' cheek and trailing down to slide her thumbnail across her lips. "I _need_ you, Liv."

Olivia's brow is deeply wrinkled at they continue to stare at each other, appearing to be having some kind of internal battle with herself, trying to resolve her own personal conflict. "Are you sure you're okay?" she finally asks softly, thumbs caressing Amanda's cheekbones.

"I'm sure," she says adamantly, a modicum of relief spreading through her that their night might not be ruined after all, that she hasn't screwed everything up between them yet again, so sick of being the one to spoil anything good that is about to happen.

"You promise?" Olivia's voice is hushed and intense, dark eyes probing intently as if trying to ascertain what exactly Amanda is saying.

"Yes, Liv, I promise. I'm okay," she whispers, blue eyes locked onto Olivia's dark stare, and they gaze steadily at each other for a long moment, no one speaking, the older woman's intense gaze seemingly trying to spear straight through into her soul to make absolutely sure she is telling the truth and that there is no room for even a hint of doubt.

"I'm okay," Amanda repeats more firmly this time, and she raises herself up slightly, knees braced on either side of Olivia's thighs, creating just enough space amidst them to take the other woman's hand into her own, pausing momentarily before guiding it down between her legs. "Do you believe me now?" she asks, voice dragging out on a soft moan as she presses Olivia's hand to the outside of her damp panties.

The older woman inhales sharply, her breath seeming to catch in her throat as she holds her hand there, cupping her lightly but not initiating any of her own movement, seemingly speechless for a moment. "Oh my god, Amanda, you're soaked," she finally whispers raggedly, and Amanda moans again, shifting slightly against her, an invitation for Olivia to start moving her fingers.

When the older woman remains still, as if she is waiting to let Amanda get used to her touch before taking it any further and not responding right away to her suggested movement, she reaches back down to cover Olivia's hand with her own again, fingers sliding onto her boss' knuckles, causing Olivia's palm to press against her with slightly more force, and she squeezes her eyes shut, stomach muscles clenching tightly. "Please, Liv. It's okay. _Please_."

She slowly withdraws her hand and Olivia finally begins to move of her own accord, fingers massaging her gently through the wet material of her panties. "Oh god, Liv, that feels so good," she sighs, eyes still closed, a pleasurable shudder running through her when she hears the older woman's soft moan in response. "Please don't stop." She feels as if she is barely able to hold herself together, like she is about to explode already, and Olivia has only just begun to touch her.

The older woman continues to rub her in soft circles through the damp cotton, and Amanda's hands are braced on Olivia's shoulders now, head bowed, hair hanging in her face, and she can hear her boss' breathing pick up, matching the pace of her own, the pressure Olivia is applying a little more firm now, and her heart feels like it is going to erupt right out of her chest.

"Amanda..." Olivia pauses briefly, like she is having trouble finding her voice. "Can I...?" She trails off, sounding breathless and uncertain, not at all like her usual self, and her fingers drift slightly upwards, grazing the waistband of Amanda's panties, the action posing a question she seems unable to voice aloud.

"Yes," Amanda gasps out, running a tender hand along Olivia's cheekbone, knowing the older woman is being very careful with her, is hesitant and shy because she doesn't want to risk hurting her or inducing a flashback, and it only endears Olivia to her more, the overwhelming and all-encompassing love she feels for her boss threatening to burst from her chest. "Please, Liv."

Olivia gazes at her quietly for a moment, dark eyes filled with emotion and need, and she leans forward to press her lips against Amanda's, the kiss deepening and quickly becoming more heated, Amanda moaning encouragingly into the other woman's mouth as she feels Olivia gently tugging her panties over her hips and down her legs, helping her free herself from the confining garment. She is completely naked now, a blush spreading across her cheeks as she watches the older woman's eyes sweeping appreciatively up and down her body, Olivia having seen her without clothing many times before, but this time is different; this time she is not having a meltdown, she is not crying, she is not distraught, and it is a new and thrilling experience to be in this position now, the other woman's expression of obvious arousal almost enough to make her shatter into a million pieces before Olivia has even touched her.

"You are so breathtakingly beautiful, Amanda," the older woman breathes in a hushed, awed tone of voice, and Amanda's blush deepens, her heart pounding erratically in her chest, a shaky smile stretching across her face.

She leans forward to capture Olivia's lips in another searing kiss, and then puts her mouth right next to her ear. "Please touch me," she whispers raggedly, so overcome with need and desire it is making her head spin, and she feels the other woman tremble beneath her, breathing sounding quick and uneven, one of Olivia's arms wrapping around her back and pulling her closer so she is flush against her boss' body, chin resting on the older woman's shoulder.

Olivia holds her there for a moment before pulling back slightly, and Amanda feels a soft hand working its way down between their bodies, caressing each of her breasts with reverence, fingers delicately tracing her nipples, before sliding over her stomach and hesitating briefly. Amanda inhales sharply with anticipation and closes her eyes, stars exploding behind her eyelids when she feels Olivia cupping her gently, but then the older woman pauses, her hand coming to a stop and resting against her moist, heated skin, as if unsure whether or not to continue. She moans passionately into her ear, and Olivia is suddenly moving again, her fingers gliding very slowly, almost torturously so, through Amanda's wet folds, circling her small protruding bud with her thumb.

"Uhh, _fuck_ , Liv," she gasps out, breath falling from between her parted lips in short, heavy pants, and she hears Olivia's breathy chuckle, feels the other woman pick up the pace slightly.

"Harder, Liv, please," she begs, thrusting herself against the older woman's hand, and Olivia complies, deepening her touch, rubbing firmly, fingertips slipping inside just the barest amount before easing back out again, and Amanda puts her mouth against her boss' ear once more, voice dragging out on a breathy moan. "It's okay, I want you to. _Please_."

After a brief hesitation, one of Olivia's fingers slides ever so slowly inside of her, and they both groan at the contact, Amanda's inner muscles immediately clenching onto the digit and pulling it up inside with more force, enveloped within her velvety walls. " _More_ ," she whimpers, body trembling violently, a sheen of sweat blooming along her forehead, and she hisses in pleasure as Olivia adds another finger, and she begins to ride the older woman's hand, her boss' fingers sinking even further into warm, wet heat.

Her head is thrown back and the loud, primal sounds emitting from her mouth are non-stop now, and she feels Olivia grasping gently onto the back of her hair, guiding their faces toward each other and crashing their mouths together, tongues sliding against each other, harsh breathing and mingled moans piercing the air. Amanda can feel herself getting close, Olivia's fingers penetrating impossibly deeper, beginning to curl themselves toward her front wall, thumb keeping up with the continued circling around her small bud, and the older woman pulls away so she can lean her head down and wrap her lips around one of Amanda nipples, sucking hard. She cries out, throwing her head back again, clutching Olivia's head to her chest with frenzied, shaking hands, fingers tangling roughly into her thick dark hair, and she feels the older woman humming lightly against her breast, tongue swirling around one nipple and then the other.

" _Liv_ ," she groans out, the immense amount of pleasure that has overtaken her entire body about to boil over and explode, and she grabs onto either side of Olivia's face, guiding the older woman's lips back up to hers, craving that connection between them, needing to be face to face with Olivia, and her boss complies, kissing her back frantically, tongues winding around one another again, and Amanda pulls back slightly, clutching tightly onto Olivia's shoulders.

"Oh god, I'm going to..."

"It's okay, baby, let go. I've got," the older woman whispers tenderly, fingers speeding up inside of her and pressing against her front wall, thumb circling once again over her swollen bundle of nerves and pushing down hard, giving a well timed swipe of her thumb, and Amanda leans forward to kiss her again, Olivia swallowing her ear spitting cry as she flies to pieces in the other woman's arms, the overwhelming pleasure all-encompassing now, her nerve endings on fire, every single coherent thought completely obliterated from her brain as evidence of her pent up desire gushes over Olivia's hand, leaving her a quivering bundle of quaking limbs, hair matted to her head with sweat, and heart racing out of control with uneven, frenetic beats.

Olivia keeps her fingers buried inside her for a moment, palm resting comfortingly against her soaked skin, as if not wanting to sever their intimate connection just yet, and Amanda savors the feeling of having the older woman so close to her, this new incredible level they have reached in their relationship leaving her stunned and breathless. Olivia slowly removes her fingers, easing them out from inside of her, Amanda whimpering at the loss of contact, and the other woman wraps her arms around her, drawing Amanda against her chest.

She slumps limply against Olivia for a long moment, head resting on her shoulder, eyes drifting closed in satisfied depletion, body shuddering violently in the other woman's embrace, trying to catch her breath, Olivia gently soothing her down from her high, soft hands stroking through her hair and rubbing up and down her back, whispering over and over into Amanda's ear how much she loves her. Amanda's arms tighten around the older woman as she straddles her lap, shins on either side of Olivia's thighs, feeling unexpected tears well up in her eyes and spill down her cheeks, and her voice is choked with emotion when she responds.

"I love you too, Liv. God, I love you so much."

"Hey, sweetheart, are you okay?" Olivia is pulling away slightly in concern, thumbs swiping away the tears, her own eyes shimmering with emotion, and Amanda nods, a tremulous smile stretching across her face.

"I'm more than okay," she says softly, eyes fixed on the older woman in wonder, and the amount of love she feels for her boss is like nothing she has ever experienced before, the incredible feeling threatening to make her lose her breath again. "That was amazing. You're amazing."

Olivia looks at her intently for a moment, brows pulled together, seeming to peer into her soul again, and then she smiles back, leaning forward to kiss away her tears and drawing her into another hug, Amanda's head resting against her shoulder. "No, you're amazing," she replies softly, hand swiping tenderly through her long blonde hair. "Thank you for trusting me, honey. I'm so glad you're okay."

"I will always trust you," Amanda assures her gently, pressing a kiss to her neck. "There is no one in the world I trust more."

Olivia's arms tighten around her in response and they hold onto one another firmly, rocking back and forth together, each clinging onto the other with a strong grip, no one speaking for several minutes, both just basking in the afterglow of their newly discovered connection, of this intimate release that Amanda had so desperately needed. She slowly becomes aware of how keyed up Olivia still seems, the other woman trembling in her arms, breathing a little labored, her obvious need very palpable, and she resolves to fix that as soon as possible, wanting nothing more than to give the woman she loves the same pleasure and release.

"Liv, you're wearing too many clothes," she whispers into the older woman's ear, gesturing down at the green long sleeved T-shirt and black yoga pants that her boss had changed into after work. "I want to feel your skin against mine. I need to touch you."

Olivia moans softly and Amanda leans away from her, grasping onto the bottom of the other woman's shirt and quirking an eyebrow in silent question, Olivia smiling at her again and nodding her consent. She pulls the garment over her boss' head, feeling that desire coursing rapidly through her again as she takes in the older woman's white lace bra, running her hands reverently down Olivia's stomach, before placing a gentle kiss on her lips and reaching around behind her to unclasp the pretty material. The bra falls away from the older woman's body and Amanda's mouth goes dry as she stares lovingly at her boss, slowly taking the soft weight of both breasts into her palms, thumbs rubbing slow circles over her nipples, causing them to harden into stiff peaks.

"Oh god, Amanda..." Olivia hisses her approval, dark eyes drifting closed, and Amanda is impatient to remove the remainder of the older woman's clothing, desperate to have their bodies pressed together, skin to skin.

Olivia seems to sense her impatience and quickly shrugs out of her pants and underwear, tossing them aside and leaving her sitting there completely bare before Amanda, arousal spearing through her once again, feeling another flood of wetness between her legs. They stare at each other quietly for a moment as if mesmerized by one another's beauty, and then Olivia is pushing her back onto the cushions, laying her body gently down on top of Amanda's, both groaning loudly at the deliciously intimate contact, lips meeting in a searing kiss.

"God, you're gorgeous," Amanda breathes in appreciation, as the older woman's lips trail down her neck and she slides her legs around Olivia's waist, moaning again as she feels the evidence of her boss' arousal on her bare skin.

They are kissing again, movements wild and frantic, grinding back and forth against each other, bodies slick with sweat and stimulation, and Amanda feels like she is on the verge of another orgasm, and she thinks Olivia is close too, the room filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and whimpering. The sudden ringing of a cell phone pierces the air, and their frenetic movements come to a complete halt, Amanda's nails digging into Olivia's back, her eyes squeezing shut in consternation, as they listening to the shrill noise, Olivia huffing out a disgruntled sigh and slowly peeling herself off of Amanda's body to reach for the phone on the coffee table.

"Oh, fuck," the older mutters, looking down at the screen in dismay, and Amanda watches as she whips the phone into her hand and up to ear, uttering a terse "hello", getting to her feet to pace back and forth in front of the couch with quick, impatient strides.

She slumps back into the cushions, trying to catch her breath as she listens to Olivia converse with whomever is on the end, words clipped and tense, and she sighs in disappointment because she knows it is something to do with work and that her boss will likely be leaving in the next few minutes. Her observations are correct when Olivia hangs up after a short discussion, a string of uncharacteristic curse words leaving her mouth as she whirls around with her arms crossed in front of her, stormy dark eyes full of lust and the same disappointment that is now stabbing acutely into Amanda's chest.

"Liv, that's not a very dignified way for a lieutenant to speak," she chastises teasingly, but there is a deep sadness coursing through her now, mingling with the disappointment, that she once again has to share the woman she loves, just wanting to have Olivia all to herself for the evening, and trying to tamp down on the massive amount of arousal that is still swirling around inside of her, unable to keep from staring openly at the other woman's nude form, that ache between her legs intensifying and making itself known again.

"Oh, so you're the only one who's allowed to have the mouth of a trucker?" Olivia snickers, causing Amanda to chuckle lightly, but she feels an immense amount of sorrow for her boss when she sees the unhappy look on Olivia's face, the way her mouth turns down in dejection, knows how exhausted and spent she is, and it hurts her that Olivia has to leave with this pent up arousal inside of her, that she wasn't able to get the release she so desperately needs and deserves.

"Sorry, baby, we have another new case," the older woman says softly, coming over to kneel down in front of Amanda, resting her head in her lap, silky dark tresses spilling across Amanda's knees, and she trails her hand through Olivia's hair, fingers running comfortingly over the strands, trying to soothe her boss and provide her with a small amount of comfort before she leaves. "I have to meet Fin and Carisi at the hospital. Hopefully I won't be too long."

"It's okay," Amanda says softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the other woman's cheek, not wanting to show her displeasure at the situation, upset not only because Olivia has to leave, but that she is unable to go with her. "I'll see you when you get home, Liv."

When she is alone in the apartment once again, Olivia having quickly dressed and rushed out the door into the chilly autumn night, she feels a bitter sense of loss, that she is stuck here by herself, unable to participate in the new case, her team continuing on in their work without her presence, the woman she loves having to leave her at the worst possible time, and she chastises herself for her immature thoughts, for not being able to control her emotions, for her inability to heal in a timely fashion.

Amanda finds herself hoping that an opening in the PTSD program will happen soon, so she can get on with her recovery process, can get on with the business of living, and she is desperate to reclaim the one thing she wants more than anything in the world, the only thing she has a right to; her life.


	20. Chapter 20

When Amanda opens her eyes, the apartment is pitch black and dead silent. She is curled up naked beneath the blanket on the couch, and she feels confused, disoriented; her heart pounding erratically in her chest and that familiar diffuse cloud of darkness pushing its way into every corner of her mind. She is absolutely freezing, an ice cold sweat covering her entire body from head to toe, and her limbs are shaking with some unknown terror, some recently forgotten memory or dream, teeth chattering so hard in her mouth it feels as if they are going to be knocked loose from her jaw.

She struggles to sit up on the cushions, the blanket coiled tightly around her body and seeming to trap her there, looking around wildly as she tries to locate Olivia, a scream poised to rip its way out of her throat. She doesn't know what is wrong, can't seem to pinpoint exactly what the problem is, her brain struggling to comprehend what is going on, but her body responding as if she is about to be attacked, some primal instinct within urging her to escape, to flee her own home.

A soft scraping noise sounds from the end of the couch, right next to the armrest, and her exhausted, bewildered gaze fixes itself there, trying to peer through the gloom, searching for who or what had made the sound. "Liv?" she whispers uncertainly, sleep-addled brain struggling to remember where Olivia had gone and why she is alone on the couch instead of snuggled up in bed with the woman she loves.

There is a sudden loud exhalation into the air, someone emitting a harsh, ragged breath that shatters the silence, and the hair on the back of her neck is standing on end now, body primed to bolt from the couch and right out the door despite the lack of clothing; but she is unable to move, her limbs seemingly having molded themselves right into the cushions she is sitting on, as if her body has become one with the material. As her eyes slowly adjust to the darkness of the room, she can now see the outline of a person standing there, and it is most definitely not Olivia, the body much taller and wider and suggesting someone of the male gender.

Her gaze roams slowly upwards, heart thumping in a rapid, sickening rhythm inside her chest, trying to focus on the area where a face should be, desperate to get a look at this stranger who should not be inside her apartment, but there is nothing; the inky blackness pooling in her eyes and becoming thicker, more difficult to see. She blinks hard, narrowing her eyes, intent on finally getting a look at the person who continues to haunt her even after all these weeks, never letting her have a break, the possible freedom from this torment becoming something of a far distant hope that is likely never to be reached, but again there is only darkness.

Since her body is still frozen to the couch, unable to move to either free herself from the situation and escape out the door or to spring to her feet and at least try to fight back, everything she has learned in her police training right at the surface of her brain, begging to be put to good use but unable to be physically accessed, she uses the only thing at her disposal; her words.

"Get out," she whispers, intending to sound confident, authoritative, in control of the situation, trying to sound like everything she is not, everything she used to be but has lost, sitting there huddled up inside the blanket, naked and shivering, small and skinny; and she knows it is actually laughable, how utterly pathetic she has become.

There is no verbal response from the person standing there, just another harsh sigh, another long exhale of breath, as if they are impatient or amused or both. Every single hair on Amanda's body is standing at attention now, the intense fear threatening to choke the life right out of her, and she has to swallow down a wave of nausea, fixing the shadowy outline with a steely glare, a tendril of resolve pushing its way up through the terror and out through her lips as she speaks again.

"Get the fuck _out_ ," she snaps, a spike of anger mixing in with the other emotions, a sudden intense fury racing through her system at never being able to achieve a sense of peace, at never being left alone, always haunted by this man in one way or the other. She wonders, not for the first time, if it will always be this way, if he is somehow a part of her now, forever linked; if they have become intrinsically intertwined and fused together in her brain because of a violent, humiliating, degrading few minutes they had shared in a rainy, garbage-strewn back alley one night.

When the mystery person still doesn't dignify her with an answer, just standing there silently as if in wait for something, Amanda tries again. "Leave me _alone_ ," she hisses, voice picking up strength now.

Yet again, there is no response, the figure continuing to stand there stock still, not making any move whatsoever, as if he is assessing the situation, assessing _her_ , and even though she is unable to discern any facial features, she can feel his gaze boring straight into her, like he can see right through the material of the blanket, eyes raking up and down her nude body in a hungry, salacious way. Amanda pulls the blanket up higher over her shoulders with trembling hands, body finally allowing her a tiny bit of movement, wrapping it more tightly around herself, unable to recall why she is naked and where her clothes are, a sickening thought occurring to her that maybe this person had removed them against her will; and she struggles to remember what had been going on earlier, how she has come to be in this situation.

She opens her mouth again to order this intruder to leave, to get the hell out of her apartment, when there is another soft scraping sound, this time coming from the opposite side of the couch. Her heart is in her throat as she whips her head in that direction, an unintentional whimper escaping her lips when she sees the outline of a second person standing there, another body equaling the size of the first one, and she knows that she is well and truly trapped now, that these strangers can do whatever they want to her and she will not be able to move, will not be able to even try to fight back, as her limbs remain stubbornly glued to the cushions.

She can hear the engine of a vehicle rumbling to life, the smell of car exhaust in the air now, mingling with the faint stench of cigarette smoke, entirely certain that they are going to take her away from her home and she will never return, will never see Olivia again, and she is perplexed at the odd sensation of appearing to be both inside of her apartment and outside in the alley. Her gaze is swinging warily back and forth between them both, wondering who will be the one to make the first move, wishing that it would be her, that she would take the initiative and fight back or at least run for her life, but knowing that she will not; that her body will stay molded into the cushions, frozen with immobility, waiting with baited breath to see what will happen next.

Both figures are still and silent as if biding their time for something, surrounding her with their malevolent, malicious presence, and although she cannot yet detect any facial features and they are just shadowy outlines of actual human beings, Amanda knows they are staring at her, is sickeningly aware of what they intend to do to her, and her limbs twitch with the desperate need to flee, to have the ability to save herself this time. There is an strange familiarity residing inside of her now, somewhat conscious of the fact that this situation seems to present and then repeat itself over and over again in slightly varying ways, but the outcome is always the same, and she is never able to escape. She doesn't have long to contemplate this new, perceptive thought; doesn't have long to wonder how she can possibly change this in order for the outcome to be different this time, to finally be in her favor, because there is movement in the room at last.

A long, shrill scream explodes from her mouth as both men suddenly lunge for her at the exact same moment, and the blanket is ripped away from her body; big, rough hands pawing at her, nails scraping against her skin, fingers digging hard into places they shouldn't be, and the breath is knocked from her lungs as she is smothered by one of them, a body larger than her own on top of her now. She struggles against the person who is seemingly trying to pin her arms down to the couch, a voice finally speaking to her now instead of just exhaling breath, but the words are lost amid her own screams, drowned out by the continuous sounds of terror pouring from her throat.

"Amanda, stop!"

It doesn't occur to her to wonder how this man knows her name or why the voice has a distinctly female ring to it, as she continues to wrestle with the person on top of her, lashing out wildly with both legs and clearly making a connection when she hears the sharp "ouch!" and feels one of her feet strike something hard, like a shinbone.

"Amanda, you need to stop, sweetheart! You're hurting me and you're going to hurt yourself!"

She allows herself to go limp as the soothing, slightly panicked voice penetrates and washes over her, realizing that the person touching her body is doing it in a gentle, non-threatening manner; that there are no rough fingers forcing themselves into private places, no sharp nails dragging their way across tender skin, and that there are only soft, comforting strokes across her bare back and arms, long sweaty strands of hair being pushed lightly away from her face.

"That's it, just calm down, honey. Everything is okay, you're safe. It's just a bad dream, there's no one here but me." Amanda tries to concentrate on Olivia's voice, understanding that it is her boss there with her now and not the two men intent on doing her harm, and she wonders where the older woman had gone, why it had taken so long to come to her rescue, to banish the monsters from her brain, and there is a stab of shame that comes with the acknowledgment that she had needed to be saved and wasn't capable of saving herself. There is still a somewhat confused, disoriented sensation clinging to her, the cobwebs of deep sleep having yet to be swept entirely from her brain, and she is having trouble differentiating between reality and the nightmare world, that incessant, clinging fear at the inability to be able to tell the two apart.

"It's so dark in here," she mumbles incoherently, clutching feebly onto Olivia's arms, the sound of the car engine fading into the distance and the smell of the smoke dissipating into the air, but there is still an acute sense of danger, a fear of the unknown, and she blinks hard, trying in vain to see her surroundings, needing to make absolutely certain that she is actually inside her apartment and not outside in the alley, but the stubborn inky blackness remains, obscuring her vision.

"Okay, just hold on, honey," Olivia murmurs, and Amanda can feel the other woman leaning slightly away from her, one of Olivia's hands holding tightly onto her knee, fingers splayed across her moist skin, and the other hand reaching out into the darkness.

An instant later there is a dim light spilling across the living room carpet from a lamp on one of the end tables, and Amanda blinks hard again, taking in the suddenly illuminated scene before her. She and Olivia are indeed alone in the room, no sign of any intruders, of anyone intent on inflicting more violence upon her, and she squints in confusion at the other woman, muddled brain still trying to comprehend exactly what is going on.

Amanda is perched on the edge of the couch now, limbs still shuddering from the aftermath of yet another nightmare, another disturbing, perplexing episode of being unable to discern what is real and what is not, the blanket lying in disarray across the armrest where she had apparently flung it, mistakenly thinking it was being ripped away from her body by someone who was not actually there. Olivia is kneeling before her on the carpet, one hand still clutching onto her knee and the other smoothing up and down the front of her thigh as if trying to infuse some warmth back into her goosebump-ridden body, tired dark gaze fixed anxiously upon her. The older woman is clad in a red satin robe that is barely being held together, the sash hastily tied around her waist in a loose knot as if she had been in a rush to dress, thick hair mussed and windblown, a pink flush spread across her cheeks, and she smells of the outdoors, of chilly autumn breezes and wood burning fireplaces.

Amanda cocks her head to the side, that disturbing, vague sensation of unreality still clinging to her, and she frowns at Olivia, fingers grasping at one of the cuffs on the other woman's robe. "Liv, where were you?" she murmurs in confusion. "They took my clothes off...that's never happened before...they've never done that before..."

"Oh, sweetheart, no," Olivia whispers, voice strained now, a hint of guilt apparent in her tone that Amanda doesn't understand, and the older woman's eyes shimmer in the muted lighting, liquid dark pools of sudden intense emotion, and for a split second it appears as if her boss is going to burst into tears.

"Yes, they did," Amanda insists. "They took my clothes off...it's so cold in here..." She fixes the other woman with an intent stare, that panic spiking inside her again, and she is desperate to be in Olivia's embrace, needing the taller woman's arms around her, holding her tightly and keeping her safe. "Liv, I'm scared," she admits, a whimper of fear emitting from her mouth.

"Oh, baby, it's okay. I promise that's not what happened." Olivia's voice is hushed now, moisture still shining in her eyes, and the sash comes untied from her robe just as Amanda slips off the couch and into her lap, the sides of the garment falling away so that they are pressed skin to skin when Amanda settles onto her thighs and winds her arms around the older woman's neck, shins sinking into the carpet as she buries her face into Olivia's shoulder.

She can feel hesitation in her boss' movements for a brief moment, a perplexing reluctance to hold her, Olivia's body appearing stiff beneath her own, and Amanda has the sudden distressing thought that the older woman is actually going to push her away, is going to shove her right off of her lap and not allow her the physical comfort and skin-to-skin contact that she is desperately craving, that is so vitally important after experiencing such a horrific nightmare, and she tenses, limbs going rigid in preparation for rejection by the woman she loves. But to Amanda's immense relief, the hesitation only lasts an instant before Olivia is wrapping the sides of the robe around her so that they are both enveloped in the same warm material, stretching the garment so that each side meets the other around Amanda's back, and their bodies are pressed firmly together, not an inch of space between them, the older woman also naked beneath the robe.

Amanda huddles into her, burrowing herself as close as she possibly can, until she is almost certain that they have merged into one being, the cold sweat drying on her skin and the goosebumps dissipating, a comforting warmth infusing her now, and she sighs in relief, eyelids fluttering closed, head continuing to rest heavily on Olivia's shoulder, long hair spilling down the other woman's arm in a tangled golden curtain. Her boss is rocking them gently back and forth now, murmuring soothing words into her ear, the usual calming motion doing its job to bring her back from the depths of darkness and despair, racing heart beginning to slow to a more natural rhythm, brain starting to clear and remember with more clarity what had been going on earlier in the evening.

"Are you okay?" Olivia whispers, and Amanda frowns at the slightly choked sound of the older woman's voice, still not comprehending the hint of guilt that she is certain she can detect beneath the concern and the sympathy, underneath that need to make sure Amanda has been pulled entirely free from the world of her nightmares and is firmly entrenched in reality once again.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she replies quietly, fingers winding their way into her boss' thick dark locks and stroking gently, feeling like Olivia is somehow the one who needs to be soothed at this moment, still unsure exactly what is going on with the other woman, why her behavior seems to be somewhat off, but wanting to make whatever is wrong better for her.

"Amanda, I'm sorry I had to leave you," Olivia says softly, pressing a light kiss to her cheek. "I just got back a few minutes ago. It's the middle of the night now, and you must have fallen asleep on the couch without getting redressed. I was in the bedroom getting changed, and I had the door closed because I didn't want to wake you up. I was about to come back out here to squeeze onto the couch with you, when you started screaming." There is a slight pause. "You scared the hell out of me, honey. You were all curled up and snoring when I got home; you looked very peaceful and content. Maybe you heard me open the door to come in, and you thought it was someone else."

"I don't know, maybe," Amanda mumbles, words muffled against Olivia's shoulder. "I just woke up and they were both standing here. I didn't know what was going on, where you were or how they got in."

"Oh, honey." The older woman's voice is still soft, grip tightening around Amanda's body, continuing to rock her soothingly, and it is obvious that her boss knows who "they" are, is aware of the men to whom Amanda is referring, the man from the alley and the friend she had never actually seen, because she doesn't ask. "You know they weren't really here, though, right? You know that you were just dreaming?"

Amanda nods against her shoulder, eyes remaining closed in weary exhaustion, and she is fully awake now, knows exactly what had taken place several hours earlier, that Olivia had unexpectedly been called out to meet Fin and Carisi at the hospital for a new case, interrupting the intimacy they had been sharing, a time for them to finally be alone and begin to explore the newfound closeness between them. Amanda had been bitterly disappointed and grouchy, concerned for her boss who had seemed so dejected and tired upon leaving the apartment, and had eventually drifted off into a fitful sleep on the couch after flicking disinterestedly through the TV channels, not even bothering to get redressed, hoping they could pick up right where they had left off as soon as Olivia walked back in the door.

They are quiet for the next several minutes, just holding onto each other and rocking gently back and forth in one another's arms, Amanda completely in the present now, the details of her nightmare thankfully fading away, spiraling off into the distance of her brain and breaking apart, the darkness of the dreams entirely obliterated and banished now as her mind becomes fixated on something else, something much more pleasant; the one person that has been occupying her thoughts more and more with each passing day, the one person she can no longer live without.

Her body begins to tingle as she recalls with minute accuracy the way it had felt to be so close to the older woman, Olivia's hands and mouth on her, fingers buried deep inside of her, and she feels an unexpected flush spreading throughout her entire body as she concentrates fully on the time she had spent with the woman she loves. She remembers exactly where they had left off, that the other woman had been left hanging and wasn't able to get the release that she had so desperately needed, the release that Amanda had been so willing to give her. She tries to tamp down on these feelings, aware that this is the worst possible time to start becoming aroused, and somewhat ashamed at the way her body is beginning to react to being held so tenderly on Olivia's lap, both of them wrapped up together within the same robe.

With Olivia's nude body pressed flush against her own, it is hard to suppress that suddenly flaring desire, the intense need that seems to make itself known around the older woman much more often now, her more carnal, erotic thoughts edging out the dark, disturbing ones from her mind, and she is both relieved that there are much more pleasant thoughts occupying her brain now, but slightly uneasy at the same time. It feels vaguely inappropriate to be thinking this way at this particular moment, as she knows Olivia is only trying to comfort her and bring her back from the murky, terrifying depths of her dreams with the skin-to-skin contact, and likely has nothing of a more intimate nature on her mind despite being snuggled against each other in their current state of undress, especially after having just witnessed the level of Amanda's fear and torment.

Even so, she cannot seem to help the intense rush of feelings toward her boss, the urge to show Olivia just how grateful she is for the older woman's continued presence in her life; for her love and comfort, for her unwavering support, for everything that Olivia is as a human being. This is the only way she can think of to say thank you, the only way she wishes to express what she is feeling, the only thing she feels she has control over at this very moment, and that shame at becoming so turned on in this situation, when it is not under the best of circumstances, starts to ebb slightly away, as she wishes to remain consumed only with thoughts of Olivia and no one else, nothing of a darker nature.

She presses a soft kiss to the older woman's collarbone, lips lingering there for a long moment, trying to convey through this simple action every single emotion that has welled up inside of her, and she moves her lips downwards, placing tender, open mouthed kisses along the upper part of Olivia's chest, hands sliding inside the robe to caress along her ribs with gentle, featherlight touches. She can feel the older woman's heart rate increasing against her, nipples hardening in response to the soft kisses and touches, but she can also detect that slight stiffness in Olivia's body again, as she rubs gentle hands up and down her side.

"Liv, I love you so much," she whispers against the taller woman's heated skin. "Thank you for taking such good care of me and for always being there when I need you." She pulls back slightly so she can look Olivia in the eye as she speaks, and frowns in confusion when she again sees the sheen of tears in the dark gaze, the older woman's eyebrows pinched together in a frown that most likely mirrors her own.

"What's wrong?" Amanda asks softly, a sudden strange fear gripping onto her as she stares at the older woman's expression, Olivia quite obviously upset about something, and she doesn't think it has anything to do with the case her boss has just returned from dealing with.

"Amanda..." Olivia's voice is choked once again, and Amanda is perplexed, her heart in her throat as she realizes the other woman isn't just upset; she is clearly distraught.

"What?" she whispers urgently, fighting the compulsion to bite down hard on her lower lip, as she removes her hands from the inside of the taller woman's robe. "Liv, what's the matter? Talk to me." The back of her hand is against Olivia's cheek now, knuckles stroking gently across skin still flushed pink from the outdoors.

The older woman is utterly silent for a moment, just regarding her with that intense dark gaze, and Amanda feels the odd fear that has taken root inside of her unfurl even further and continue to grow, rapidly spreading out to encompass her entire being, as Olivia takes her hand away from her cheek and holds onto it, gripping tightly, lowering their joined hands down to rest in Amanda's lap.

"I'm sorry," Olivia states simply, and Amanda's frown deepens, something sharp twisting inside her chest at these two words, suddenly completely convinced that the older woman is about to tell her that she is leaving, that Olivia has finally become aware that she has indeed gotten more than she has bargained for by falling in love with someone who suffers from PTSD, has finally come to her senses after all these weeks of nightmares and anxiety and flashbacks and addiction; has finally fully realized just what she had gotten herself into by being with Amanda, by taking their relationship from colleagues to friendship, and then from friendship to something far more personal and permanent, that she is in much too deep now and needs to get herself out of it.

"Sorry for what?" Amanda mumbles warily, afraid to hear the answer, aware that if her suspicions are correct, she will never recover from the loss. "For falling in love with a crazy person?" The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them.

" _Amanda_." Olivia's voice is sharp and stern now, piercing the relative quiet of the room and making her jump slightly in the older woman's lap. "You are not crazy because you have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, do you understand me? I don't want to hear you refer to yourself in that way. You are dealing with the consequences of a trauma and there is nothing crazy about you."

There is a pause that stretches out awkwardly between them, and when Olivia speaks again, her voice is much softer this time. "I'm sorry about earlier this evening," she says, squeezing Amanda's hands gently within her own. "Look at what is going on here, Amanda...you are waking up screaming from nightmares right after we were together, and it's obvious that you weren't ready, that it was way too soon, that we rushed into things."

She sighs heavily, and Amanda can see a tear clinging to other woman's lower lashes, hovering there and glinting in the dim lamplight, but not falling. "When you had that flashback, I should have stopped." Olivia's voice is very apologetic and intense now. "I'm sorry I didn't stop, I'm sorry I kept going. I showed very poor judgment and I shouldn't have let my feelings for you, my need to be with you, get in the way...and now you're having these awful nightmares..."

Amanda sits there for a moment in stunned silence, her brow wrinkling again as she continues to stare hard at the older woman. "What?" she asks in confusion. "You're blaming yourself for my flashbacks and nightmares? Liv, what are you talking about? They're not your fault; I have them all the time! You are fully aware of this, now that you have spent several weeks living with me. They have absolutely nothing to do with you!"

"You had a flashback because you couldn't see me, because I was behind you, because it reminded you of what happened with him...you didn't remember why you had no clothes on when you woke up from your nightmare..." There is an immense amount of guilt and sorrow radiating from Olivia now, and Amanda pulls back from her slightly, feeling torn in two, as it hurts to see the older woman in such obvious agony, and she is tempted to try to provide some comfort, but there is a frustration humming just below the surface as well, a hint of anger that their intimate evening together is going to be turned into something else.

"This is _not_ your fault," she whispers fiercely. "You didn't do anything wrong. I love you and I wanted it to happen. I wouldn't have given my consent if I didn't, Olivia; I wouldn't have initiated it. Is this going to be an issue every single time I initiate something physical between us? Because it sure seems that way to me. It definitely seems like this is becoming a problem."

She pauses and reaches out to place a firm hand against the other woman's flushed cheek."It was a positive, happy, amazing experience, Liv. The best experience of my life, okay? The flashback lasted only a few seconds, and then I was able to pull myself out of it, but this is something that will most likely continue to happen on a regular basis, at least for the next little while, whether we are being intimate or not. You know that it's a product of the PTSD, not anything that you have done."

There is another slight pause as she draws a deep breath into her lungs. "I get that you're concerned about me, but please don't try to turn this into something it's not. Don't turn it into something negative and ugly. I honestly can't stomach it, Olivia, I really can't. I've told you this before."

"I'm sorry," the older woman says quietly. "I don't want to turn it into a negative experience and I don't want to make you think about things that you would rather forget. It was wonderful for me too, honey."

"Well, if it was wonderful for you too, what's the problem, then?" Amanda asks softly.

"Maybe we took things to the next level too soon," Olivia replies with a sigh, and yet again there seems to be that war raging inside of her, regret and concern and need and passion all wrapped up into a simmering ball of emotion intent on exploding; this war that she just can't seem to push to the side and be free of. "Maybe we shouldn't be physically intimate while you're in recovery."

"Well, it's a little late for that now," Amanda chuckles, one eyebrow arching ruefully. "And considering we're having this conversation while I'm sitting naked in your equally naked lap, I'm thinking this still counts as being 'physically intimate'."

The corner of Olivia's lip lifts slightly, faint amusement peeking out through the angst for a split second."Well, maybe we need to slow down with everything then," she suggests gently. "Maybe we just need to take it easy for the next little while."

"Well, you keep saying that, Liv, but I'm not sure if you actually mean it," Amanda whispers, looping her arms around the back of the older woman's neck and leaning closer to her so that their faces are only inches apart now. "You are far too concerned about me and not nearly concerned enough for yourself. I don't think you actually want to take it easy for the next little while. Don't let your guilt keep you from having what you want, what you need. You seem to be feeling an intense amount of guilt for something that is in no way your fault."

Olivia frowns at her, removing Amanda's arms from around her neck and placing them back down into her lap. "This isn't about my guilt, Amanda. This is about making sure that you are really and truly okay with everything that is happening, with everything that has changed between us, that you always feel safe no matter what the situation. And as much as you say you are okay, I'm not entirely convinced, because the flashback and the nightmare says otherwise to me. I think you need to take things one step at a time, at least for now. Your recovery has to come first."

"Well, that's just great," Amanda says in a flat, sarcastic tone, rolling her eyes."I guess we can be together again in about six months, then. Maybe a year, considering they don't even have a spot for me in the PTSD program yet. Or maybe never, if I don't ever fully recover." She slides off of Olivia's lap and gets to her feet, whipping the blanket forcefully off the armrest of the couch and wrapping it around herself. "Have fun with that, Liv. I guess now we'll be taking turns going into the bedroom for some alone time, while the other one sits out here and watches TV."

"Amanda, please don't walk away angry-"

"I'm not angry, Liv, I'm just really tired," she replies with a weary sigh, turning around to face Olivia, blue eyes bright with unshed tears. "I'm having trouble understanding things and I think I just need a good, long sleep. Maybe this will look a little more clear in the morning. I'm just going to go to bed, okay?" She covers her face with her hands for a brief moment, intent on muffling the sudden exhausted sob threatening to break loose from her throat, and then leans down to pick the blanket up off the carpet when she realizes that her emotions have caused it to slip out of her grip and flutter to the ground.

"Amanda, come here," Olivia says gently, getting up off the floor and retying her robe, before holding out her hand. "Let's talk a bit more first, okay? Don't go to bed upset."

"It's really late, Olivia," Amanda sighs, swallowing hard to hold down the wave of tears, determined not to let a single one fall, as she feels like she has done enough crying in the past few weeks to last the rest of her life. "If I'm this tired, you must be about about ten times worse. Let's just go to bed and talk in the morning."

"Actually, I think I'm going to stay out here for a little while," the older woman replies softly, settling onto the couch and tucking her legs beneath her. "I'll come in soon."

"Suit yourself," Amanda mumbles with a shrug, something tearing in her chest at Olivia choosing not to join her in the bed, even though she is still desperate of comfort, and for something more than just comfort, and she trudges into the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her, tempted to give it a hard slam for good measure, but refraining from the immature act.

She throws the blanket to the floor and yanks a pair of pajamas out of the chest of drawers, pulling the pants up her legs and shrugging the shirt over her head, body still tingling with need, and she crawls under the covers, pulling them up to her chin, immediately feeling the emptiness on the other side of the bed. There is an all-consuming sadness creeping through her now, that immense longing for her life to return to normal and wondering how long she will have to wait; if she will ever get where she so desperately wants to be, if she will ever be able to return to work and to have a relationship that isn't riddled with nightmares and flashbacks and anxiety, the woman she loves terrified of damaging her even further, afraid Amanda will shatter like glass if she isn't careful enough with her. She wants more than anything for the hospital to call, telling her that there is an opening in the group; needs something to give her hope that she will one day get a handle on this PTSD, needs to know that things won't always be this way, that Olivia won't continue to have this reaction toward her, that the older woman will be able to rid herself of her extreme amount of guilt and worry.

Amanda rolls over roughly in the bed and sighs, tear-filled eyes staring up at the dark ceiling, her thoughts fixed firmly on Olivia, and she knows there is no way she will be falling asleep anytime soon, no matter how tired she is. She is somewhat puzzled as to why the older woman seems to be much more concerned about the physical aspect of their relationship than Amanda herself is, even though Olivia had not been the one to suffer through the trauma; is not the one dealing with a diagnosis of PTSD and struggling on a daily basis with everything that entails. She wonders if there is something else going on, something more than the older woman is letting on, that maybe she is having her own issues with the situation.

Amanda sits up in the bed and swings her legs over the side of the mattress, unable to wind down while things are so tense and awkward between them, while her brain is jumbled with so many different thoughts and emotions, while Olivia is in a separate room and not here in bed where she belongs. She creeps out into the hallway, intent on making things right, and frowns at the pitch black of the apartment, no lights on anywhere now, careful not to bump into anything as she makes her way over to where the other woman is sitting.

She can just make out the shadowy form of Olivia curled up in her robe at the end of the couch, looking drained and forlorn, when she enters the living room, and Amanda's heart aches, unable to stand seeing her boss in such agony and despair, no matter how frustrated and confused she feels. Again she has to remind herself that she needs to exercise some patience with the older woman, that Olivia has not emerged unscathed from Amanda's trauma, that she too bears both the emotional and the physical scars, as she tries to help Amanda navigate through this tumultuous, prolonged recovery process, and that she is only capable of doing the best she can, taking on Amanda's pain and torment while also juggling her duties as lieutenant at the precinct, dealing with the most horrific of human depravity.

She blows out a breath and then hangs her head in shame, shuffling over to the couch and giving Olivia a gentle shove against her shoulder. When the other woman looks up at her questioningly, unshed tears gathered in the corners of her dark eyes, Amanda motions silently with her hand to move forward, and after Olivia complies, she squeezes onto the cushions behind her, wrapping her arms and legs around the older woman's body and resting her cheek against her back.

"Hey there, little monkey," Olivia whispers in a choked voice, reaching down to lace their fingers together and holding their joined hands tightly over her stomach. "You decided to come back."

"I couldn't leave you alone," Amanda murmurs tenderly into the material of her boss' robe. "I'm sorry, I really am. I'm sorry that I don't stop to consider your feelings sometimes, I'm sorry that I forget from time to time that this is hard for you too, and that it's not all about me. I know you're struggling with everything and you're just doing what you think is right, even if I don't always agree or understand." She brings her hand up to lightly swipe some hair over Olivia's shoulder and press a soft kiss to the back of her neck. "I love you."

"I love you too," the older woman replies, whispered tone fierce now as she turns around on the couch and envelops Amanda tightly into her warm embrace. "I am struggling, sweetheart, and I appreciate you acknowledging it. Work is crazy right now, and things are still so tough for you, and I'm just trying to figure out how all the pieces fit together." There is silence for a moment. "And I don't want to hurt you," she adds in a low voice.

"Liv, why do you keep saying that?" Amanda asks softly, leaning back slightly to cup the other woman's cheek with her hand. "No matter how many times I tell you that you're not going to hurt me, that I'm okay with the physical stuff, you don't seem to believe me. Why is that?"

Olivia stares at her intently for a moment before glancing away, and Amanda frowns, guiding the older woman's head back around so that they are facing one another again. "Tell me, Liv," she insists quietly.

Olivia sighs and reaches up to swipe a tear away from one of her eyes, and Amanda's heart breaks at the gesture, pulling the older woman against her chest, hating to see Olivia cry. "It's okay, just talk to me," she urges her gently, stroking her fingers soothingly through the silky dark hair, laying her cheek on top of the other woman's head.

There is another moment of hesitation before Olivia begins speaking. "After Lewis...when I was physically intimate for the first time..." she trails off, and Amanda gently squeezes the back of her neck, urging her again to keep talking. The older woman heaves another sigh, burying her head more firmly into Amanda's chest as if in need of comfort. "I had gotten my flashbacks and nightmares under control by that point, so I thought it would be okay...but it started everything up again, and I couldn't get control of them for a long time...I didn't tell anyone, though, I wasn't honest about what was happening, I just kept silent about it."

"Oh, Liv, I'm so sorry," Amanda replies quietly, the knowledge that Olivia had suffered so much alone before they had become friends, before they had gotten so close, causing her heart to ache again; that wish to be able to go back in time and change the past, to fix things for the woman she loves.

"I just don't want the same thing to happen with you," Olivia says softly, arms tightening around Amanda's waist. "I don't want it to turn into something negative; I'm so scared of hurting you." The older woman's voice cracks and Amanda pulls her boss into her lap, rocking her gently back and forth, like Olivia had done for her earlier.

The older woman leans back slightly so that their gazes are locked onto one another again. "I know this is new territory for us both, that we need to have patience with each other, that things are going to be really difficult from time to time." She pauses for a long moment. "You're still healing, Amanda...and I guess I am too."

Amanda feels her heart melt and fixes the other woman with a compassionate, understanding look, pulling Olivia against her chest again and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'll help you heal, Liv," she promises, voice a hushed whisper, and she blinks back a fresh wave of tears, overcome with love for the older woman. "We'll help each other."


	21. Chapter 21

Amanda is laying sprawled across the couch with her head in Olivia's lap, the older woman absentmindedly stroking through her long blonde hair with one hand, while leaning over slightly to type away on her laptop with the other. The computer is sitting propped up on the coffee table in front of them, beside their cups of tea and cell phones, and Amanda is hoping that her boss won't get called into the precinct and they can just enjoy a rare weekend alone together, despite Olivia trying to squeeze in some work while Amanda would rather be doing other things.

It is early Saturday morning and the mid-February winds are howling viciously outside, whipping the snow around into little white tornadoes that whirl periodically past the apartment windows, making Amanda want to huddle even further under the blanket she is snuggled beneath. She is feeling quite bored already, even though she hasn't been awake for very long, and tries to tamp down on the sudden childish urge to reach over and snatch Olivia's laptop away from her and hide it somewhere in the apartment; somewhat disgruntled that the older woman has felt the need to work when they finally have some time together, just the two of them.

The first thing her boss had done upon awakening was turn on her laptop to quickly finish up something she had been working on the night before, intending to get it out of the way before she did anything else that day, and Amanda had slipped from the bed and followed her out to the living room to stretch across the couch beside her, waiting none-too-patiently for the other woman to be finished. She feels torn, both frustrated at Olivia's inability to put her job aside and just relax, and worried about the amount of time the older woman spends working, immersing herself far too deeply into the horrors of the job when she has enough to deal with in her personal life.

Even thought she has become well-accustomed to this particular routine now, she has grown exhausted and weary of it; Olivia working on case after case without her and still not talking about much of what goes on at the precinct, unable to share her burdens, still concerned that Amanda is fragile and vulnerable; and she is counting down the weeks until she will be able to come back on light duty, starting out at her desk and working her way up from there, finally able to be reunited with her team. A tentative timeline has been set for her return to the precinct, but it will be based on how everything goes over the next month or two and whether she can continue her upwards climb and not slide back into that deep black hole of self destruction once again. There is now some hope at the end of the tunnel, a ray of light that is shining through the darkness and pushing her hard to keep moving forward with her recovery, knowing that one of the things she wants the most; something she had lost and has been striving toward for months now, something she is desperate to reclaim, is finally within her grasp.

"Anything I can help you with, Liv?" Amanda asks, breaking the silence between them, the only other sound in the room the quick taping of computer keys, and she tries to keep the eagerness out of her voice, already knowing what the answer is going to be but feeling the need to inquire anyway.

"Thanks, honey, but I'm good," Olivia replies, nails scratching in a comforting motion against her scalp, like she is trying to cushion the impending disappointment.

"Wow, what a shock," Amanda mutters, with a slight sigh. "I'm still not allowed to have anything to do with any of the cases, even after all this time."

"Just give it a bit more time, sweetheart," Olivia says soothingly, bending down to place a quick kiss on her forehead. "You're in the homestretch now. Not much longer to go."

It has been two months since Amanda had entered the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder outpatient program at Mount Sinai Hospital, after spending six weeks on the waiting list, a spot unexpectedly opening up when there had been a sudden cancellation. She had started the program shortly before Christmas, and the last several weeks have been spent getting used to yet another routine and a new normal; intense one-on-one therapy sessions, group therapy with people suffering from similar issues as herself, and continuing on with her Gamblers Anonymous meetings. Those overwhelming urges to gamble have finally begun to abate slightly, to calm down to a point where it is not on her mind constantly and she feels like she has somewhat of a handle on her addiction now; although it is precarious one, and she knows she has to continue to work hard to ensure that she doesn't slip up yet again.

They are currently slogging their way through a particularly nasty New York winter, having been cooped up indoors even more than they had been during the initial phase of Amanda's recovery process, when it had been difficult for her to leave the apartment on a regular basis without having severe panic attacks, being sucked into multiple flashbacks, or desperate to frequent every single casino and gambling establishment she had passed. Her jogs in the park have been replaced by numerous trips to the gym and taking part in a variety of classes; self defense for women, boxing, and yoga, among others. Olivia has made an effort to join her whenever possible, so Amanda tries to save her gym time for the evenings, when the older woman is more likely to be available. Thanks to the multiple hours a week now devoted to athletic activity, and the dietary courses she has been taking as part of her recovery program at the hospital, Amanda has begun to put on some much needed weight, as well as replacing the muscle she had lost, and is beginning to look and feel more like her old self again; clothes no longer hanging off her body, and that gaunt, haunted look slowly being replaced by a healthier glow. She has been feeling more confident about her physical appearance lately, taking more pride in the way she looks, and has actually begun to recognize the reflection of the woman staring back at her in the mirror.

Despite the gradual, steady progress she has made in most areas of concern, the nightmares are the one thing that continue to persist, and no amount of therapy or exercise or change in diet seem to be helping. She is convinced that they won't stop until the perpetrator has been caught, but knows this is a very unlikely scenario, as there have been no new leads for months now and the case seems to have fizzled out before it had even gotten started. There had never been much of a case to begin with, and she holds out even less hope than she initially had that the perpetrator will be caught and brought to justice. This has hampered her recovery process in some ways; the lengthy, arduous journey toward good mental health occasionally grinding to a complete halt when she is reminded that the mystery man is still running loose in the world somewhere, and she is still capable of shattering completely to pieces every once in awhile, especially when the realization hits that she will most likely never feel truly safe and secure.

Amanda has been quite up and down with her moods, her emotions tending to fluctuate wildly back and forth, swinging from contented to somber to everything in between, although the moodiness is not as bad as it had been at the beginning of treatment and she feels a bit more steady now in terms of being able to control the intense array of feelings that seem to come and go whenever they please. There have been some days Olivia has returned home from work to find her buried beneath the blankets on their bed, so gutted and inconsolable with life in general, so overwhelmed with the heaviness of the PTSD treatment, that the other woman has immediately climbed right underneath the covers next to her before removing any of her winter gear, grabbing Amanda in a bear hug and just holding and rocking her until she can calm down and stop with the incessant sobbing, Olivia occasionally joining in with her own tears.

Other days are much brighter, and they are goofy and ridiculous with each other, acting like silly teenagers in love for the first time, dancing to old music in the living room together, posing for stupid pictures on their phones, and engaging in long text conversations within earshot of each other in separate rooms of the apartment if they are particularly exhausted and rundown from their busy schedules, too lazy to get up and join the other to have an actual discussion in person. One of their most juvenile moments had involved starting a prank war, each of them insisting the other had been the one to initiate it, the pranks involving one of them awakening the other in the morning with a pillow straight to the face, and ambushing each other while in the shower, pouring a bucket of cold water over the top of the curtain and listening with glee while the intended target shrieks with surprise in the tub, or suddenly starting a tickle fight in the middle of a quiet movie on the couch.

Amanda lives for these rare moments of frivolous inhibition, when she and Olivia are not two women who have suffered through unimaginable trauma and pain; when she doesn't see herself as someone stricken with PTSD and Olivia clearly doesn't view herself as a strict, stern lieutenant, and they are just normal people capable of indulging in a foolish bit of fun. The breaks from the darkness that still cling to her are much-needed and appreciated, although the despair does not cling quite as tightly now as it once did, and Amanda is somewhat smug and proud of her ability to bring out the silly side of Olivia; to bring her smart, capable, no-nonsense boss down to her own level of maturity or lack thereof. At times she finds herself very desperate to engage in mindless, lighthearted behavior after spending so much time locked within the terrifying shadows of her own brain, so sick of being tormented by the monsters that continue to haunt her, the nightmares a chilling reminder that she will likely never be completely free of the dark.

That blithe immaturity is calling to her now, the need to alleviate the boredom that is already settling into her system this early on the weekend, the seemingly never ending winter causing them to be cooped up indoors yet again, and Olivia's apparent need to work at the crack of dawn on a Saturday inducing a restlessness inside of her that needs to be alleviated. There is that persistent hint of concern mixing in with the playfulness, the worry she often has that the other woman works way too hard, rarely allowing herself a break to just wind down and relax, that constant need she has to take on the weight of the world and solve everyone's problems, and Amanda wants nothing more than to bring out that impish, teasing side of Olivia that she so adores, and is very intent on accomplishing just that.

"Liv, you look so hot in the those glasses," Amanda says suddenly, breaking the silence between them and reaching up to stroke a hand over the other woman's cheek, fingers gently grazing the frames that are perched on her boss' face. "Kind of like a sexy librarian."

"Mmm hmm," is Olivia's distracted response, and Amanda rolls her eyes and sighs.

"Liv, I think you've had enough work for now," she chastises lightly, curling her body more tightly into the taller woman's frame and holding on with a strong grip, her face pushed into Olivia's stomach, muffling her voice as she speaks. "It's the weekend and you need to take a break and relax. You work way too hard and the stress isn't good for you. Let's see if there are any funny movies on TV, okay?"

"Soon," her boss replies in that same distracted manner, stroking a gentle hand over Amanda's head, fingers working their way through the wild tangles of recent slumber. "You want to loosen your grip a bit there, little monkey? I can hardly take a breath."

Amanda obliges and rolls over onto her back again, her head still in Olivia's lap, so she is staring up at the underside of her boss' chin while the older woman continues to lean over her and type away on the keyboard.

Olivia has taken to affectionately referring to Amanda as her Little Pantless Monkey, or L.P.M. for short, for Amanda's habit of lounging around the apartment in her underwear, her boss jokingly asking what the occasion is, if she returns home from work to find Amanda actually wearing a pair of jeans or pajama bottoms, and not cooking or cleaning or watching TV in only her panties and a shirt. The nickname also refers to the clingy habit that Amanda had developed toward the older woman and has been unable to shed; her tendency to tightly wrap both her arms and legs around Olivia whenever they are cuddling, fusing their bodies so firmly together that not even air can penetrate between them. She still has little to no desire to touch anyone else, even for just a brief hug, skin still crawling at the thought of it, and her boss is the only person in her life she has ever behaved this way toward, the only person she has ever felt an intense physical connection with, constantly craving the comfort that only Olivia can provide; and she thinks nothing of just plunking herself down right in the older woman's lap whenever she feels the need, no matter what they are doing or discussing, as long as they are alone in the apartment.

Olivia has never seemed to mind the clinginess, though, and will quite contentedly let Amanda use her as her own giant teddy bear or pillow whenever they are sleeping or watching movies or even in their current situation, when Olivia is trying to get some work done. The older woman has also become much more physically affectionate over time, when it comes to her own comfort, learning to put a voice to her personal needs and wanting Amanda to hold her when she has had a particularly rough day at the precinct or whenever her mind is stuck in some dark part of her past, haunted by her own demons. Amanda more than happily obliges, glad to finally be able to do what she had been unable to after Olivia's encounters with Lewis, when the older woman had so desperately needed someone to be there for her.

Olivia had taken the goofy nickname even further, going so far as to buy Amanda a set of monkey-themed apparel for Christmas, pajamas and slippers and a stuffed animal; a large, fluffy monkey that is ironically wearing a pair of pants. Amanda had been very amused and touched by the gifts, and now uses the stuffed animal as one of her safety items when she is stricken with a sudden panic attack or flashback while alone in the apartment, holding onto both the toy and Olivia's ring to help bring her back from the depths of darkness and keep her tethered to reality. The older woman has not yet asked for her ring back, insisting that Amanda keep it for as long as she needs to, and the tiny silver object goes everywhere with her, either tucked into a pocket of her clothing or safely hidden inside her wallet, the ring being an item that she can actually take out of the apartment with her, thinking it quite inappropriate and embarrassing for a police detective in her mid-thirties to be lugging around a large stuffed monkey just in case she has a meltdown in public.

The slippers, which consist of ridiculously gigantic monkey heads sewn onto the top of the fuzzy material, are currently residing in their bedroom, and Amanda is overcome with a sudden mischievous impulse, the urge to make Olivia laugh and forget about the stress of work, to try to banish the dark circles of exhaustion from beneath her eyes; so she carefully eases herself off of the older woman's lap and creeps into the other room. She whips her pajama shirt over her head and pulls her pants down her legs, and then sits down on the bed to remove the thick pair of socks she is wearing to ward off the winter chill. She then slides the large, cumbersome pair of slippers onto her feet and pads naked to the doorway of the bedroom, very careful not to trip. Amanda crosses her arms over her chest, hooking one ankle around the other, and leans casually against the door frame, not uttering a single sound, waiting to see how long it will take Olivia to look up from her laptop.

When several minutes have passed and the older woman is still entirely engrossed in what she is doing, expression fixed in a thoughtful frown on the screen in front of her, fingers flying in a lightning fast rhythm over the keyboard, Amanda rolls her eyes again and clears her throat.

Olivia's gaze flies up from the computer and she stares at her for several seconds in complete and utter silence, brow wrinkling in perplexity as if she has no idea what is going on, being yanked from her online world back into their domestic life, and she suddenly throws her head back, bursting into loud peals of laughter. "Wow, that's quite the look you've got going on there, Amanda."

She grins at her boss, feeling quite accomplished and delighted by the joyful, tinkling sound of Olivia's laughter, and strides over to where the older woman is sitting on the couch, pausing in front of her to bend a leg and cock a hip, hands on her waist now, striking a dramatic pose. "I'm bored, Liv."

"Yes, I noticed," Olivia replies dryly, and Amanda watches as the other woman's eyes travel slowly up and down her body, taking in the newly defined muscles and more rosy, healthy glow of her skin, a faint blush staining her boss' cheeks now.

"See something you like?" she teases, wiggling her eyebrows up and down. "I didn't know monkey slippers got you all hot and bothered, Liv. Very interesting. I'll have to file that little fact away for future reference."

"It's not the slippers and you know it," Olivia mutters, shaking her head in consternation, a corner of her lip twitching slightly.

"Oh? Well, what is it, then?" Amanda asks innocently, raising her palms up to the sky as if in deep confusion.

"I think you need to put something else on," the older woman replies, apparently choosing not to respond to the playful question.

"Something else?" Both of Amanda's eyebrows are raised now, and she smiles cheekily down at her boss. "Okay, sure, no problem, Liv." She reaches her hands out to where Olivia's glasses are perched on her nose and gently takes the frames off her face, before placing them on her own. "Is this better?"

"Amanda." There is a note of warning in the other woman's tone now, but she can see Olivia fighting a smile of her own and trying to remain stern."Give those back right now."

"You forgot to say please," Amanda answers, a cocky grin stretching across her face when she sees the older woman's disgruntled expression.

" _Please_ ," the older woman says, sounding a little less amused now, lips pursing together in admonishment.

Amanda pretends to give it some thought, scratching at her chin with her fingers, hands hovering near her face as if she is going to remove the glasses and give them back, but then appears to think better of it and lowers her arms down to her sides. "Nah, I think I'll keep them. They complete the look, don't you think?" She holds out her arms and spins around in a slow circle to give the other woman the best view possible.

"Amanda, I'm trying to work," Olivia sighs, leaning away from her laptop now and glaring up at her with an irritated expression, but she can see that hint of desire shining in the older woman's dark eyes, the lust hidden beneath the annoyance.

"Well, don't let me stop you," she replies, gesturing toward the laptop. "Go ahead. Work."

"You know I can't see the screen properly without my glasses," the other woman replies, sharp gaze boring into her own now, and Amanda wiggles her eyebrows up and down again, that urge to provoke and draw Olivia away from the stress of her job growing even stronger.

"Well, if you want them back, you'll have to take them from me," she answers with a wicked smile, dancing out of the way when Olivia swipes an arm in her direction, apparently trying to do just that.

"Amanda, I don't have time for this nonsense," the older woman says in a withering tone. She gets to her feet and takes a step toward her, lip quirking up at the side in her own devilish smile. "If you're so bored, why don't you go outside with the neighbor kids and play in the snow?" she suggests in an offhand, condescending tone; an air of superiority emanating from her expression, clearly poking fun at Amanda's immature attitude. "You can build me a nice little snowman, sweetheart, just like all the other children are doing."

Amanda stops short in her tracks, one eyebrow arching sharply in response, and glowers silently at her.

"Aww, are we pouting now?" Olivia asks teasingly. "Amanda's not getting what she wants so she's sulking like a toddler? Why don't you grow up a bit, honey?" She grins and sticks her tongue out mirthfully, apparently not heeding her own advice. "I'll play with you later," she adds with a slight smirk, and it is obvious she knows that she is starting to get under Amanda's skin.

"Why don't you take that giant stick out of your ass and have a little fun for once?" Amanda shoots back, biting down hard on the inside of her cheek when she sees the look on the other woman's face.

Olivia's eyebrows fly upwards in surprise and she takes another step toward her. "Excuse me? Would you care to repeat that? Why don't I do _what_ now?"

Amanda snickers and takes the glasses off her face, twirling the frames lazily around her fingers before placing them down on one of the end tables. "You heard me, Liv. Although I think you'd have to have that thing surgically removed by this point because it's shoved so far up there." She sighs heavily. "All work and no play makes Liv a _very_ dull girlfriend."

She dances out of the way again as Olivia makes another quick move in her direction, the taller woman's hand swiping out and fingers just barely grazing the bare skin of her shoulder.

"Amanda, you are driving me crazy. I'm trying to get some work done, and you're strutting around here completely naked," Olivia huffs out exasperatedly. "It's a little distracting."

"I'm not completely naked," Amanda protests, gesturing down toward her feet. "I'm wearing slippers."

" _Argh_." Olivia scrubs her hands roughly over her face, an irritated burst of laughter falling from her lips. "How is it possible for you to make monkey slippers look sexy?"

Amanda shrugs innocently, a suggestive smirk gracing her lips now. "You're the one who bought me these sexy slippers, Liv," she reminds her. "It's your own fault."

"Well, stop parading around here in those sexy slippers while I'm working," Olivia replies, voice taking on a more hushed tone now, the blush staining her cheeks becoming more pronounced, and Amanda's smile widens.

"Make me," she whispers in a sultry, encouraging voice.

They stare intently at each other in silence for a long moment, expressions of challenge on both of their faces now, neither one backing down, and Amanda shrieks in surprise as Olivia suddenly lunges for her, giggling madly as she takes off into the kitchen with the older woman in hot pursuit. Her boss chases her around the table, both of them overcome with fits of laughter now, a stitch in Amanda's side from being unable to contain her childish hilarity at the situation and get herself under control, and she catches a foot on one of the chair legs, the gigantic slippers tripping her up and sending her plummeting toward the floor.

Olivia catches her just in time, grabbing her around the waist before she can smack face-first into the hard tiles, hauling Amanda up into her arms and lifting her onto the counter. She perches there for a brief second before looping her arms around the back of the older woman's neck and wrapping her legs around her hips, drawing Olivia's face close to her own and pressing their lips together in a searing kiss that quickly becomes more heated.

"Uh oh, I'm sitting naked on the counter," she chuckles breathlessly into the other woman's ear. "I thought you said this was unsanitary, Liv. I think you're breaking a hard and fast rule here."

"Fuck the rules," Olivia mutters, the older woman's breathing sounding slightly more labored as well, and Amanda laughs again, arousal flooding through her at the uncharacteristically crude language, finding it a turn-on whenever her classy, dignified boss curses.

She kisses the older woman again and Olivia responds instantly, the passion and eagerness of the older woman's actions indicating that Amanda's mission has been accomplished; that her boss is finally taking a much-needed step away from her work and unwinding in the best possible way.

The intimacy they have shared over the past few months has yet to reach the level that it had on the night Amanda had suffered a horrific nightmare on the couch after Olivia had been called into work, and they have been very careful with each other since then, constantly toeing the line but never stepping entirely over it. They have taken showers together and shared many bubble baths and occasionally sleep naked when it's not absolutely freezing, engaging in light touching and lingering kisses, but it has not gone any further than that. Amanda has been driven crazy with need more times than she can count now, but has respected Olivia's desire to take things slowly, trying her best to exercise some patience as she knows that it comes from a good place, the older woman wanting to protect her and keep her from getting hurt, and that Olivia is still dealing with her own dark issues. There has been a lot of teasing and playfulness between them over the past several weeks, constantly dancing around more intimate behavior, and Amanda knows that her boss has the same needs that she herself does, but they always seem to stop just short of taking things all the way once again.

The arousal that has been awakened inside is coursing steadily through her now, causing her heart rate to pick up the pace and a light sweat to bloom on her skin, and she slides a suggestive foot up and down the other woman's leg before realizing she is still wearing the ridiculous pair of slippers, the fuzzy material rubbing back and forth along her boss' pajama pants.

"Oh my god, will you just take these stupid things off?" Olivia mutters impatiently, reaching down to yank the slippers from Amanda's feet and sending them flying across the room. "These were just supposed to be a silly Christmas gift, not something to use to entice me into sex."

"Liv, it's not my fault that monkey slippers make you horny," Amanda whispers into her ear, tongue tracing a wet line across her neck before biting down gently on the older woman's earlobe, making Olivia shiver against her.

"Well, maybe if you put some clothes on while wearing them..." Her boss trails off breathlessly, tilting her head to the side to give Amanda more access.

"Are you seriously still complaining about the fact that I'm naked? You need to get your priorities straight," Amanda retorts, placing a lingering open-mouthed kiss against her neck and smiling into the older woman's skin as she listens to Olivia laugh softly. "Liv, I'm worried about you," she adds quietly, tightening her grip around the other woman for a moment. "You work too hard and it's been taking a lot out of you."

Olivia leans away slightly to arch a skeptical eyebrow at her. "So you decided to prance around here in the nude and steal the glasses right off my face because you're concerned for my well being?"

Amanda chuckles sheepishly, a blush spreading across her own cheeks now. "Well, when you put it that way, it just sounds weird."

Olivia rolls her eyes and shakes her head, an affectionate grin quirking her lips, and she runs a tender hand over Amanda's cheekbone. "You have a strange way of going about it, but you're the best distraction possible, honey," she assures her gently. "I know I've been working too hard and you're right about me needing a break, so I'm going to take one, okay?"

As if on cue, the lighthearted, intimate moment between them is interrupted by the shrill ringing of Olivia's cell phone from the coffee table in the living room, and they both groan simultaneously.

"Speak of the devil," Amanda murmurs, heaving a disgruntled sigh. "It's like they know exactly when we're about to engage in some kind of sexual behavior and feel the need to put a stop to it."

Olivia snickers and then places a placating kiss against her lips. "It might not be work; you never know."

"I _do_ know, Liv," Amanda replies with another sigh, as she slides off the counter and leans down to retrieve the slippers that had been tossed haphazardly onto the floor.

Olivia gives her a slight smile before rushing into the other room to answer the phone, and Amanda can see the disappointment and exhaustion in her dark gaze, mixing in with the now-blatant arousal, and she blows out a disappointed breath, wondering if things will ever slow down for her boss and eager to get back to work so she finally be of some use and start helping out again.

Just as she had predicted, there is yet another new case, and Olivia hurries to get dressed so she can head out the door into the frigid winter temperatures and furiously blowing snow to meet Fin and Carisi at the hospital. The older woman has a bit of an odd look on her face as she pulls on her heavy boots and puffy jacket, the previous mood of playful irritation entirely drained from her body now, and Amanda cocks a questioning head at her as Olivia places a quick, preoccupied kiss goodbye on her cheek, feeling a little put off by her boss' change in demeanor, as it doesn't seem related to their disrupted morning. She is tempted to ask what the case is about, what awaits Olivia and her teammates at the hospital, but the question dies on her lips before it can be uttered, as she realizes there is no point in asking; that she will most likely just receive the usual response.

xxx

When Olivia is gone, Amanda is still somewhat restless and a bit worked up from their encounter in the kitchen, trying to push down the strange feeling that something isn't quite right, so she decides to distract herself by putting on the old music that she and the older woman occasionally dance to, and starts cleaning the apartment from top to bottom.

She has just finished showering and getting dressed for the day, combing through the wet snarls in her long blonde hair, when she hears the key turn in the lock and the shuffling of heavy winter boots against the floor, signalling her boss' return. Olivia comes immediately into the bedroom, stopping short and gazing at Amanda in silence for a brief moment, brows knitted deeply together, a clear indication that something serious has happened, and Amanda's stomach clenches in response, steeling herself for whatever the older woman is about to say.

"Welcome home, Liv," she says softly, smiling tentatively at the older woman, stomach muscles clenching more tightly when Olivia doesn't smile back. "What's going on?"

"We need to talk about something," Olivia replies quietly, and Amanda is somewhat alarmed when the other woman gently takes her hands into her own and guides her to sit down on the bed, large dark eyes fixed intently on her wide open blue ones, and shining with palpable concern.

"Okay..." Amanda's heart rate is picking up speed as Olivia takes a seat next to her on the mattress and places a hand on her arm, fingers squeezing lightly. "What's going on?" she repeats, voice more insistent now.

"I want to talk to you about the new case we just got," her boss replies in a serious tone.

Amanda's eyebrows shoot up in complete surprise. "What? I haven't been allowed to hear about any of your cases for almost half a year now, Olivia. What makes this one so special? Aren't you worried about scarring me even more than I already am?" This last sentence is said somewhat wryly, and Amanda is both grateful and suspicious at finally being included in the team's business once again.

"A young woman came into the emergency room early this morning," Olivia explains softly. "She says she was sexually assaulted outside a bar in the middle of the night. She was in the alleyway, smoking a cigarette, and a man came up from behind and hurt her."

Amanda stares back at Olivia, mouth falling open slightly but no sound emitting from between her parted lips, seemingly struck mute. It feels like her previously racing heart has suddenly stopped beating in her chest; like the world is standing still now, and she waits with baited breath for the other woman to continue speaking.

"Honey, the details sound extremely similar to what happened to you last fall. The bar is only a few blocks from the club where you were assaulted," Olivia says, voice low and gentle, as she continues to stroke her hand comfortingly up and down Amanda's arm. "The woman claims that a large man came up behind her and assaulted her in much the same way, that she thought he had been drinking, and that he was very rough and demanding when he couldn't become aroused by what he was doing. He also mentioned that he was waiting for his friend to pull the car around."

"Did-" Amanda chokes on her words, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, afraid to ask the question because she is not sure if she can handle hearing the answer. "Did they get her in the car? Did they-" She swallows hard against a wave of nausea. "Did they do what he said they were going to do to me? In...in the backseat?"

"No, sweetheart, that didn't happen," the older woman answers quietly. "We still don't know if there is another person involved; if there is actually even a vehicle, because they were interrupted by the bartender taking the trash out, and the man took off before anyone could stop him." Olivia has one hand resting lightly against Amanda's cheekbone now, the other smoothing her wet hair back from her forehead. "They got a partial description of him, though. It was dark out but very snowy, so it was quite a bit easier to see than it would have been for you, when it was pitch black and raining with no snow on the ground. If this is the same person, it's possible that he's taking advantage of the bad weather, thinking there will be less people around if it's raining or snowing. The snow seems to be working both for and against us at this point, though, as it was light enough to get a better look at the suspect, but it was snowing so heavily when the alleged incident took place, and it has continued to snow since then, so any usable footprints have since been obscured."

They are interrupted yet again by the older woman's ringing cell phone, and Olivia sighs heavily, pulling away from her trembling form to retrieve the phone from her purse, shooting Amanda a worried look as she answers it with a terse "Benson."

Amanda takes the opportunity to slip out of the room as she hears Olivia say hello to Carisi, shutting herself in the bathroom and locking the door quietly behind her. She leans heavily against it, bracing her body against the wood, brain whirling with so many different emotions that she is finding it difficult to think straight, the lightheartedness of the weekend completely obliterated now that this new and disturbing information has suddenly come to light. Her thoughts are fixed on the young woman in the hospital; wondering if she is okay, if she is in pain, if the brutal stranger that had come out of nowhere from the darkness of the night had caused her to bleed like she herself had.

This is all it takes for her carefully composed demeanor to shatter entirely to pieces, and she experiences a quick flashback of huddling in the shower after the assault, a thin line of blood streaking the insides of both thighs and the desperate need to wash any and all traces of the man away, remembering with stunning accuracy how her body had ached in places it shouldn't have, how shocked and overwhelmed and in disbelief she had been, unable to fully grasp that this had actually happened to her; that this perfect stranger who had appeared so suddenly in her life had turned her into a victim, the entire thing lasting only mere minutes but every single aspect of her existence changing forever in that instant.

Amanda bends over at the waist, hands clutching onto her knees, overcome with horrific memories of the assault and the guilt of not going after the man right away, unable to catch him before he had taken off into the rainy, murky darkness he had arrived from; just standing there afterwards, completely shell-shocked and unmoving, shaken to the very core of her being and trying to process what had happened, and just like that her breath is being sucked away and she is clawing at her own throat with sharp fingernails, desperate for a gulp of air.

It is like someone has flipped a switch, and she is astounded at the strength of the anxiety that slams into her with the force of a hurricane, throwing her previous feelings of silliness, boredom, and arousal entirely off kilter, and all she can concentrate on is struggling to draw a ragged gasp of air in through her rapidly closing throat. It has been months since she has had a panic attack of this magnitude and she shudders violently with the force of it; is surprised to be so overcome so quickly, as she has worked so hard to get her intense anxiety under control, has actually been able to get it to a point where she can calm right back down again by holding onto Olivia's ring or the stuffed animal or working on the breathing techniques she had been taught, and any panic that begins to spike up out of nowhere can usually be tamped down before it begins to spin out of orbit.

That is not the case now, though, and any sense of normalcy that Amanda has been able to achieve in this area of her recovery, any sense of comfort and relief that she is no longer at the mercy of her severe panic disorder and is not constantly wondering when she will unexpectedly fly off the handle, just waiting to come apart at the seams, is completely destroyed. There is a darkness creeping in at the sides of her vision, the walls of the bathroom swaying and rippling in a disconcerting manner, and the invisible hands wrapped around her throat squeeze just a little bit tighter. She is audibly choking now, air supply almost totally cut off, stunned at how everything has gone downhill so fast.

The room is whirling quickly around her in a dizzying array of color, and there is nothing within her grasp to hold onto, the silver ring and the stuffed monkey and Olivia herself all in the bedroom together while she is in here alone, unable to alert the older woman to her distress, as she cannot even suck in a breath, much less get a word out. She bends over even further, still scrabbling frantically at her own throat, fingernails digging in hard enough to break the skin, long hair dragging across the floor now, gagging desperately as the feeling of pins and needles beginning to shoot up through her hands and feet at the lack of air.

A sudden sharp knock sounds at the door and Amanda closes her eyes, a tendril of relief unfurling at the sound of Olivia's concerned voice. "Hey, honey, sorry about that phone call. Carisi just had a question about the case. I'm sorry we got interrupted again." There is a slight pause. "Are you okay in there?"

When she in unable to respond, remaining bent over at the knees, hands clutching with surprising strength at the material of her jeans, there is another knock, harder and more insistent this time. "Amanda, can you answer me, sweetheart? I know this is a lot to take in right now and we need to talk about it some more."

Her eyes are still squeezed shut and there is a ringing in her ears now, but she can hear the handle of the door rattling, and she is unsure of why she had locked it in the first place. "Amanda, please answer me so I know you're alright," Olivia says urgently. When the older woman's alarmed voice is met with yet more silence, she is more insistent when she speaks again, the handle of the door shaking back and forth with more force. "Amanda, unlock this door right now."

Her feet seem to be glued to the floor, her violently shuddering body folding in on itself and threatening to collapse, and it takes every ounce of concentration she has to unlock a hand from around her own kneecap and reach a trembling arm out to comply with Olivia's demand, wanting nothing more than to be folded in the warm, comforting embrace of the woman she loves, desperately needing Olivia to put a stop to this insanely spiking panic.

When the door swings open, Amanda's shaking knees buckle all the way and she falls right into the older woman's arms, listening to Olivia's gasp of surprise at the sudden weight, and then feeling herself being hoisted up, her boss struggling to keep her from falling onto the floor in a painful heap of twisted limbs.

"Oh my god, Amanda, take a breath, honey. It's okay, just breathe for me. Just take it easy, sweetheart." Olivia's voice sounds strained, a hint of her own panic apparent in her tone, as she continues to try to hold Amanda upright, and she grasps weakly at the front of the taller woman's blouse, begging silently for help, unable to utter even a single word, a slight breathy wheezing the only sound that emanates from her mouth.

"Okay, come on, baby, just try to breathe for me; you can do this," Olivia urges, hands clasping tightly onto the back of Amanda's plaid shirt, and they stand there together in the bathroom, wrapped firmly around each other, two quivering bodies merged into one, Amanda continuing to gasp for air against Olivia's chest, mouth wide open to suck in a breath that just isn't there.

Vivid, harsh memories from the assault are slamming into her brain, obliterating all other coherent though, and all she can feel is that brutal man's hand against her mouth, cutting off her ability to breathe, to scream, to plea for help, and for the first time in weeks, she has lost complete control and is unable to get it back.

Just like that, Amanda feels like she is right back at square one.


	22. Chapter 22

Amanda is clinging onto Olivia for dear life, unable to remove her tightly clenched fingers from where they are locked onto the front of the older woman's blouse, the slippery, silky material bunching under her shaking hands, still trying in vain to inhale a deep breath, but all the air seems to have been sucked right out of the room. Her heart is pounding in a sickly, uneven rhythm in her chest, the rapid beat roaring in her ears, and a thin film of cold sweat has bloomed on her skin, causing the clothing she had just dressed in to stick uncomfortably to her body and pasting hair that is still wet from the shower right back against her head again.

She can feel Olivia's hands tangled up in the damp strands now, the other woman gently trying to pry Amanda's face away from her chest to get a look at her, but her grip only becomes that much more forceful, unwilling to be separated for even a second, pleading silently with Olivia to help her, desperate for even a single mouthful of air. Her vision is narrowing dangerously again, tunneling in at the sides so the room takes on a much darker appearance, and her knees buckle a little more, dipping her that much closer to the hard tiles of the bathroom floor.

She hears the soft grunt beneath her in response to the slight movement, feels strong arms flexing impossibly tighter around her shuddering body, Olivia obviously trying very hard to keep her from slipping out of her grasp and tumbling to the ground, and Amanda's arms and legs are turning to mush, the numbness creeping in from her hands and feet to encompass every part of her. She can't seem to unwind herself from the older woman, can't seem to find her balance, that steadiness she needs to remain upright, and her body becomes even heavier in the taller woman's embrace, weighing them both down.

"Amanda, it's okay, honey, just try to breathe slowly and deeply for me." Olivia's voice is soft and soothing, but she can detect that twinge of panic underneath the careful composure, that hint of surprise at the unexpectedly swift and all-consuming breakdown; Amanda calm and collected in one instant and a shivering ball of quaking limbs and wheezing breath in the next.

There is a heavy, grimy hand clamped over her mouth and probing fingers digging underneath her clothing to slide roughly into places they don't belong, and she chokes and gags against the unwelcome intrusion, managing to tilt her head back and raise terrified blue eyes up to lock gazes with Olivia, expression frozen in that desperate, silent plea for help. She can't manage to articulate exactly what is happening to her, how it had all gone so bad so fast with the news of another victim; that the brutal stranger is somehow behind her in her own bathroom even while she is wrapped up in the older woman's arms, that it has never seemed so difficult to just take a single breath of air, to speak what needs to be said, to make all of this stop. Everything she has learned in therapy, everything she has managed to accomplish during all of these tough months of recovery have been completely obliterated from her brain now, spiraling away like they had never even existed.

She can feel blood coating the juncture of her thighs, the sticky substance spilling out rapidly from inside of her to pool in her underwear and paste her jeans to the sides of her legs, and the nausea is rushing up her throat once again, the utter confusion at what is occurring causing her mind to whirl in a devastating series of memories and exacerbating what had actually taken place, unsure of precisely what is real and what is only imagined; if this is indeed happening right now, if it had taken place many months ago, or if it had even happened this way at all.

She becomes aware that Olivia is speaking to her again, the comforting voice of the woman she loves sounding more firm now, trying to break her out of the anxiety and flashbacks she is locked into, the disgusting images playing in a disturbing loop in her brain, and trying to ground Amanda with her touch and her words. "Sweetheart, you can breathe, you can make this stop," the older woman says intently, like she actually believes what she is saying, like Amanda is actually capable of putting a halt to all of this torment. "Whatever is happening to you right now isn't real; you are here with me in our home and no one else is with us. You are warm and safe and no one is hurting you."

Amanda finally manages to find her voice, although any ounce of self control is still entirely lost, and the words spill haltingly from between trembling lips. "I...can't...breathe..."

"Yes, you can," Olivia assures her, tone of voice still somehow both soft and stern at the same time, staring intensely back down at her, one hand remaining tangled in Amanda's wet hair and the other gripping onto the back of her plaid shirt.

"I'm...bleeding..." Amanda chokes out, and she is sure that the blood has soaked all the way through her pants now, is dripping down her legs to paint the tiles of the floor with bright red streaks, and she is afraid to look, horrified at what is happening to her body, the pain and the agony causing a broken sob to break loose from her constricted throat.

"Oh, baby, you are not bleeding, I promise," Olivia replies in a somewhat choked voice, and Amanda can see the sheen of tears in her eyes now, heart clenching at the anguished expression on the older woman's face, her boss clearly sharing in her suffering and distress, the empathy radiating from her tone and touch. "I'm so sorry, honey; I'm so sorry this has happened to you and that it's happened to someone else. I'm sorry we couldn't catch him in time."

"It's not-" Amanda has to swallow against another wave of nausea, desperate to suck in a much-needed mouthful of air before speaking again, head drooping down to rest against the other woman's shoulder. "It's not your fault, Liv. It's...mine." She squeezes her eyes shut, the harsh bathroom lights assaulting her vision, the walls continuing to move in that unsettling, sickening way, and the floor seems unsteady beneath her feet now, like it too has taken on a life of its own and is shifting back and forth underneath the woolly socks she had put on to guard against the winter chill.

"It is _not_ your fault," Olivia whispers fiercely, pressing her lips to the top of Amanda's bent head, speaking into her damp hair. "You have said this to me several times before, Amanda, and I don't know what else to say or do to convince you otherwise."

"I should have gone after him," she murmurs, the ability to speak coming a little easier now, but the room still somehow moving, even though her eyes remain clenched shut. "I shouldn't have just stood there. I should have been thinking like a cop, I should have been behaving like one."

"Amanda, you were likely in shock," Olivia says sternly. "You weren't thinking like a detective-"

"Because I was thinking like a victim," Amanda interrupts bitterly, finishing the older woman's sentence for her. "Because that's exactly what I am. A fucking victim."

" _Amanda_." Olivia pulls back slightly to grasp firmly onto both sides of her face, gazes locked onto one another again, and the tears are still there, gathered in the corners of the other woman's dark eyes, hovering on her long lashes but not falling. "Yes, you were a victim, but now you are a survivor. Look at everything you have been through, all that you have overcome, the incredible progress you have made. That's something to be very proud of, sweetheart; something that no one else is capable of taking away from you." There is a slight pause. "I realize that you've hit a snag here, a setback, but you can get past this and keep moving forward. We _will_ catch him, Amanda, I am sure of that now."

"Yeah, it's just a minor snag, a little setback for _me_ ," she whispers, the shame and regret and remorse causing her voice to choke up again. "But it's not for _her_. For this woman that he just hurt. Her whole life has suddenly changed, everything has fallen apart in the blink of an eye. I bet she just went out to have some fun, to let loose for a night, or maybe she was like me and was doing something she shouldn't have, but whatever the reason, I know she wasn't expecting this; to be brutally violated by some stranger, to be lying in a hospital bed in the emergency room, getting poked and prodded and having to tell her humiliating, degrading story over and over again to the police. Whoever she is, whatever her reason for being where she was, she didn't deserve this." She gulps audibly, speaking from harsh experience. "This young woman...she's just at the beginning of this awful journey, and it's only going to get worse for her before it gets better, _if_ it actually gets better."

Amanda closes her eyes again as she is swamped by another wave of anxiety, the smothering arms of panic coiling themselves strongly around her once more, and her grip on Olivia becomes impossibly tighter, desperate to ground herself and not be sucked back into more horrific memories, her mind playing tricks on her, still not entirely certain of what is real and what is not. She is stunned at the sudden ferocity of the panic attack and flashbacks, the magnitude of this meltdown that has reared up out of a previously boring and somewhat silly Saturday morning with Olivia; terrified that everything has spun out of control so quickly, that she had been unable to hear the news without falling apart, hadn't been able to digest this new information without shattering completely to pieces. After working so hard in her recovery process and getting a taste of normal life from time to time, a glimpse into the way things used to be and the way things could possibly be again, the sobering fact that she is still able to lose herself this quickly and thoroughly and that any tentative grasp she has on a possible full recovery can be knocked back down again in the blink of an eye, is utterly devastating.

She is terrified that her job is in jeopardy once again, even before she has returned to the precinct; that all of her hard work is not going to pay off, that everything is going to be taken away from her before she has even gotten it back, and she can feel her hope for the future sliding from her grasp, that wish to be reunited with her teammates and get back to doing what she was born to do spiraling away and breaking apart. It is all too much, the whirling thoughts and overwhelming emotions, and she fixes watery blue eyes on Olivia again, pleading insistently with both her voice and her expression not to take it all away.

"Liv, I know this is really bad, I know that I've lost control here, but please let me come back to work, please don't change your mind," Amanda rambles incoherently, fingers clutching onto the sleeves of the other woman's blouse now, desperate to prove herself, to make her boss see that she is still capable of doing her job, that she hasn't actually regressed by having this massive meltdown, despite the fact that she is clinging to Olivia like the older woman is her lifeline.

Olivia frowns down at her in confusion, one hand resting against her cheek again. "Amanda, you're getting a little ahead of yourself here," she replies. "There isn't even a specific date set for your return to work yet, and that is the last thing you need to be worrying about right now. You're all over the place here, sweetheart, and you need to try to calm down now. There are things we have to discuss, but they can wait until you're feeling a bit better."

"Just please don't take my job away again," Amanda gasps out, completely ignoring what the older woman has just said, and any tenuous amount of self control that she has managed to grasp onto is slipping away from her once more. "Please...please..." She doesn't even know what she is saying now, random words falling from her lips, thoughts in complete turmoil, and the darkness that has been dancing around in the corners of her vision, taunting and teasing with impending unconsciousness, is more solid now, creeping back in and threatening to consume her entirely.

Olivia is speaking to her again, words garbled and distorted against the roaring in her ears, and her fumbling hands clutch as tightly as they can onto the taller woman's clothing. "Liv, I'm gonna pass out..." she warns in a breathy, shaking voice.

"Oh, _shit_...Amanda!" She can hear the tension and stress in the other woman's voice as her knees give out entirely and she begins to slide to the floor, and feels Olivia hoisting her back up, arms locking firmly around her ribs. Her feet are moving against the tiles now, the taller woman practically dragging her from the bathroom and into the bedroom, the short distance between the two seemingly a much greater length than it actually is, and Amanda manages to keep herself upright before they both collapse onto the bed together.

She is a violently shuddering ball of nerves once again and there are only whimpers emitting from her throat now, breath coming out in quick, harsh pants, and she is being wrapped up in Olivia's warm, strong embrace once more, that familiar, soothing rocking motion starting up as the covers are pulled over her shivering form, and they huddle beneath the blankets, Olivia speaking to her in a whispered voice.

"It's okay, baby, I've got you, I've got you." Olivia's lips are pressed to the top of her head once again, and her eyes slide closed in pure exhaustion, one hand grasping limply onto the front of the older woman's shirt. "All you need to worry about right now is getting yourself back under control, okay? Just concentrate on that and nothing else. Anything else can wait. Just try to breathe and relax. Everything is okay."

When Amanda doesn't answer, she feels Olivia tilting her head back to get a better look at her, and sees the teary frown on the older woman's face, her boss' fingers brushing lightly against the skin of her neck. "Oh, honey, look what you've done to yourself," Olivia says in a hushed tone. "You've hurt yourself."

Amanda is puzzled for a moment, fingers reaching up to glide over Olivia's and then she feels them; the scratches littering her throat from clawing at her own skin, trying desperately to breathe. She squeezes her eyes shut, head lowering in shame, and she definitely doesn't think this will help her cause; is certain that the older woman will decide that she's still not in the right frame of mind to return to work, that she is not fit for duty. She had barely even been aware of causing harm to herself; the only thing on her mind being the incredible urge to draw even just one single breath. That panic swells through her yet again, and no matter how hard she tries, she is just too far gone this time, unable to get a handle on the all-consuming anxiety.

"Liv, I can't make it stop," she grits out through clenched teeth, and she is shuddering so hard in the other woman's embrace that the entire bed is shaking with the sheer force of her body's uncontrollable movements. "Please, make it stop. _Please_. Oh, god, Liv."

Amanda is aware that Olivia has slipped both the tiny silver ring and the large stuffed monkey into her hands now in an effort to help calm her down with both of the safety objects, and she gratefully grasps onto these items that have been gifted to her from the person she loves most in the world, the older woman murmuring soothing words into her ear as she continues to rock her, but it is no use. She has lost complete control and cannot seem to regain it, and finally she can't take it anymore.

Amanda ends up having to do what she has never done before, and that is to take medication. She has two full bottles of anti-anxiety pills sitting on her nightstand; one for these emergencies that crop up out of nowhere and one for everyday use to help keep her steady, but she has yet to take even one. Despite her previous bad habit of overindulging in alcohol consumption whenever her issues had become too much to handle, she has never been one for drugs, always shying away from them; filling the prescriptions to appease Olivia and her doctors, but not taking them, instead choosing to use the different techniques she had been taught to make the panic attacks stop. Alcohol is not allowed in her recovery program, and she has been very proud of herself for not slipping up in that area, for actually following the rules for once and not having a single drink since her volatile lunchtime showdown with Olivia several months ago; for being able to calm the panic down on her own.

It will not calm down now, though, and when several more minute have passed and she is still unable to resume control, she voices her need to Olivia, uttering the words in a choked, slightly shamed tone, the other woman reaching over to grasp one of the bottles and unscrew the top, telling Amanda to open her mouth, and placing a tiny white pill under her tongue. The medication begins to take effect almost immediately and the panic finally starts to loosen its grip a little; the pill helping to alleviate the worst of it, while still clutching onto Olivia, the ring, and the stuffed animal for comfort. The older woman continues rocking her back and forth, one hand untucking the back of her shirt from her jeans and slipping beneath the plaid material to rub wide circles across her bare skin, helping to ground Amanda with her soft touch.

They spend a long time curled up in the bed together, until Amanda is calm enough for the older woman to finally pull away and risk leaving her alone for a little while, to get some things accomplished, Amanda on the verge of falling asleep. Olivia hadn't been able to take a shower before rushing out the door that morning, so she takes the time to do that and change into a fresh pair of clothes, before continuing on with the case from home. Fin and Carisi spend the next several hours out in the field, interviewing a variety of people from the bar and the victim herself once again, after she has been released from the emergency room, and there are plans made for both the young woman and the bartender to sit down with a sketch artist as soon as possible. Amanda will also be required to go over the details of her own case again, her co-workers needing to compare and contrast the two to find any and all possible connections, but Olivia is adamant that it will have to wait just a little bit longer, as Amanda is currently in no condition to do much of anything and will likely not be much help as the medication seems to have put her into somewhat of a vague trance, her thoughts and emotions mellowing out and taking on a softer edge.

Fin and Carisi have been very concerned for her well-being throughout the course of the day, and she has received multiple text messages from each of them, asking how she is doing and if she wants them to stop by at any point when they are done working for the day. Amanda is touched by their worry and friendship, as they have been keeping close tabs on her since the whole ordeal had begun last fall, and had been nothing but supportive when they had learned about her relationship with Olivia, but the only person she wants anything to do with that day is her boss. She cannot handle seeing or speaking to anyone else, and thanks both men for their concern, promising she will be in contact with them soon.

xxx

The rest of Saturday passes in a slow, somewhat hazy blur, Amanda drifting in and out of sleep in the bedroom while Olivia goes about her business, returning to check on her multiple times throughout the day. The older woman occasionally climbs back into the bed to cuddle with her for a little while before continuing on with her work, as well as straightening up the apartment and starting dinner, cooking spaghetti and meatballs and garlic bread. It has become one of Amanda's favorite meals, since it was the first thing Olivia had ever cooked for her and her appetite has returned with a vengeance over the past few weeks, but she is unsure of how much she will be able to choke down this time.

After dinner, Amanda finds herself reverting back to her childhood and spending Saturday night watching cartoons, curled up miserably on the couch beneath a blanket, clad in the monkey pajamas and slippers that Olivia had given her for Christmas, and clutching tightly onto the large stuffed monkey, using it as a pillow. She feels like she is about five years old again, and certainly not like a police detective only a few years shy of her fortieth birthday, but she is too emotionally wrung out and physically exhausted to be embarrassed, craving nothing but safety and security, and she finds herself glad that Olivia had bought her these silly items in homage to the nickname she had graced Amanda with, taking nothing but comfort from them now. The anxiety medication had induced a sleepy numbness at first, but now there are tears gathering in her eyes and her throat feels tight, and she realizes that she is about to take her childish appearance and actions one step further by bursting into tears.

She cannot seem to get the young woman out of her mind, despite never having met her and not even knowing her name. She feels a certain kinship with this perfect stranger, an odd responsibility, like she had let her down by not trying harder to catch the person who had done this to both of them; and no matter how many times Olivia reminds her that it is not her fault, that persistent guilt resides firmly inside of her, taking up residence as a physical weight upon her heart.

Amanda wonders what the woman is doing now that she has been released from the hospital, what is going through her mind, if she has anyone there for her like she herself had been lucky enough to have Olivia, and the gravity of the situation and the excruciating empathy she feels on the young woman's behalf is threatening to tear her apart. She covers her mouth with her hands, intending on muffling the sobs that are bursting forth from within, but they coming spilling out from between her fingers, a low mournful keening for this person she hadn't even known existed when she had woken up that morning.

Olivia comes rushing in from the kitchen, her face fixed in a mask of concern and alarm, a dish towel slung over one shoulder and rubber gloves on her hands. Amanda gazes up at her through eyes awash in tears, and the older woman slides quickly out of the gloves, tossing the towel aside, and steps over to the couch. Without saying a word, she simply crouches down, wrapping one arm around Amanda's back and hooking the other beneath her bent knees, lifting her onto her lap as she sits down on the couch, tucking the blanket around both of them. This only perpetuates Amanda's seeming regression back to childhood, being so tenderly cradled in the taller woman's lap, but she doesn't care, pushing her face into Olivia's neck and soaking in all the comfort that her boss is providing, that familiar subtle sent of vanilla surrounding her now.

The anxiety medication is continuing to do its job of tamping down any lingering feelings of panic that threaten to spike back up again and is keeping them firmly at bay, but it seems to be inducing more of an emotional response now, the pleasant numbness of earlier sliding away to be replaced by the broken, sobbing mess that Amanda has suddenly turned into. No matter how hard she tries, she just cannot seem to push random images of different young women out of her mind, wondering what this particular woman, her fellow victim, looks like and if she resembles Amanda herself. The grotesque pictures in her mind of women with no discernible features or hair color or height or weight, being brutally assaulted by a man who is equally as indistinct, are playing on a continuous loop in her brain, until finally it is herself being hurt over and over again in that wet, dirty, stinking alleyway that she will never be able to forget. These horrible images that she cannot seem to rid herself of do not create more anxiety, just a lingering sense of despair and sorrow.

"Liv, I can't get it out of my head," she whispers into the other woman's neck, coating Olivia's skin with her tears, and she feels her boss' arms tighten around her response. "I can see it so clearly in my mind, that stranger hurting me...and hurting _her_."

"Sweetheart, you don't even know what she looks like," Olivia reminds her softly, a hand coming up to smooth through her long hair. "I am so sorry you're going through this. Is there anything I can do to try to make things better for you, to take these thoughts out of your head?"

"I want to meet the other woman," Amanda murmurs. "I want to know if she's okay."

"She is doing okay right now," Olivia replies gently. "She's home from the hospital and her parents and boyfriend are with her. She's not alone."

"Good," Amanda answers, somewhat relieved by this information, worrying that the young woman was all by herself, suffering and scared and injured. "But I still want to see her."

"You know I can't let you do that right now," her boss chides quietly.

"But I just want to say sorry," Amanda whispers, choking up once again and swiping an arm over her face to rid herself of the continuous flow of tears. "I want to apologize for not catching him before he could hurt her too; for having to deal with this for the rest of her life."

" _Amanda_." Olivia gives a sigh of what sounds to be both frustration and sadness, and she jostles Amanda slightly before pulling away to grasp onto both sides of her face with tender hands. "Honey, you can't keep going down this road. What can I do or say to you to get this out of your head, to stop with this line of thinking? I don't know how many times I can keep repeating myself, that this was in no way your fault."

They are face to face and eye to eye now, breath mingling together, and Olivia leans forward to press a soft kiss to Amanda's lips before resting their foreheads against each other, thumbs stroking lightly back and forth along Amanda's temples. "Listen to me, honey. We have more information to go on now; we have a partial description. We are going to catch the person responsible for this; the only person who should be feeling guilty, the only one who should be punished. We _will_ catch him and get justice for the both of you, I promise you that."

Amanda sighs in dejection, reaching up to gently pat one of Olivia's hands, answering in a defeated tone. "I appreciate your optimism, Liv, but don't make promises you can't keep."


	23. Chapter 23

Amanda rolls over in the bed, one arm swiping out across the wrinkled sheets, frowning when her fingers don't come into contact with another body right away. She cracks an eye open, frown deepening in perplexity when she sees that the bed is empty, Olivia no longer snuggled up against her beneath the warm blankets. The room is very dark and quiet, and a quick glance at the clock confirms that it is the middle of the night.

After her emotional breakdown following dinner several hours ago, Amanda had spent the rest of the evening laying on top of Olivia on the couch, clinging onto her boss like she was afraid Olivia was going to suddenly disappear, the older woman holding onto her tightly in return until the tears had subsided and she had been able to pull herself together somewhat. They had continued to watch the cartoons Amanda had put on, keeping the childish programs playing one after the other well into the later hours of the evening, needing a goofy distraction from the heaviness of the day and the unexpected news of another victim after all this time, but neither of them had ended up paying much attention to the silly antics on screen.

Amanda has been quite preoccupied with thoughts of the young woman who had just been assaulted, her mind torturing her with a multitude of upsetting unanswered questions; if there had been more victims spanning the months between Amanda's assault and the woman's, and if there had been others before her own, women who had decided for whatever reason not to come forward. She wonders how many victims there actually are, a distressing certainty having overtaken her that there are more women like her out there, women who have been hurt and brutalized but who have chosen to suffer in silence, perhaps lacking the help and support to come forward; help and support that she herself has been extremely lucky to have.

She knows that Olivia's thoughts have been focused mainly on her, the older woman not letting Amanda out of her sight for more than a few minutes at a time, and she resolves to try harder to hold herself together; to do everything she possibly can to keep the anxiety and flashbacks at a minimum, as her boss has enough to deal with right now and Amanda doesn't want to add to her already heavy burdens, frightened and ashamed that she had fallen this far so quickly with the news of another victim. She has been feeling stronger lately, both physically and emotionally, more capable of handling anything negative that comes her way, but this unexpected news has thrown her for a colossal loop and she becomes aware of a faint need to pop another pill, that anxiety creeping slowly back in and making itself known once again, and it is a strange urge and one that she is very unfamiliar with; that need for medication.

Amanda feels shaky and unsettled as the panic begins to take a firmer hold, that random cloud of darkness suffusing her brain with eerie, disturbing images that slide away from her when she tries to focus on them, and she swings her legs over the side of the mattress, planting somewhat unsteady feet onto the carpet, prepared to go in search of Olivia as she cannot fall back to sleep without being wrapped up securely in the other woman's embrace. She wonders where her boss has gone, still not hearing any noise whatsoever from outside of the room, and there is concern rising inside of her now, wondering if something has happened and hoping everything is okay.

The bedroom door is shut tight and when she opens it with a slightly trembling hand, silently lecturing herself to stay calm before everything begins to spiral out of control once again, she notices a light emanating from the main door to the apartment. There are muffled voices coming from that direction and a brightness spilling in from the hallway outside of her unit, illuminating the floor and couch but not quite reaching the spot where she is huddling just out of sight. She frowns again when she sees that the door is wide open and catches a glimpse of Olivia's pajama bottoms, the other woman seemingly leaning outside and having a conversation with someone.

There are two distinct male voices now, mixing in with the higher feminine tone of her boss', and Amanda is overcome with confusion and alarm, wondering what is going on and who Olivia is talking to in the dead of the night. For a moment she thinks it is Fin and Carisi at the door and that there has been a break in the case, but does not understand why her colleagues have shown up in person to discuss it instead of calling or texting, especially considering the time of night. Her confusion with the situation only heightens when she hears Olivia let out a loud, tinkling laugh, indicating that whatever is going on is actually not serious after all, but apparently some kind of bizarre social visit.

As Amanda tiptoes closer to the door, she realizes with a growing trepidation that it is definitely not her teammates out in the hallway, that the men's voices are completely different; one she is sure she has never heard before and doesn't recognize at all, but the other one stops her dead in her tracks. She knows that voice, can place it instantly but in another setting, in another place and time, and it sounds out of context here in her own home where she should be safe and secure; where the only men she has allowed in here since the assault have been her brothers in blue.

This particular voice is tattooed on her brain, remembering with keen accuracy the low drunken growl emitting from a mouth with foul rotting breath, the continuous disgusting commentary peppered with the words "whore" and "slut" and "skank"; claiming she shouldn't be dressed that way if she didn't want so much attention, that it is her own fault they are doing this in some rainy back alley reeking of garbage and cigarette smoke like they are no better than a couple of animals, that she is not wet enough for what he has in mind so he is going to help her out with that little problem by using his mouth on her.

Amanda stands there frozen in utter disbelief and horror for a long moment, unable to grasp exactly what is going on; why the woman she loves is having some kind of light, merry discussion with these brutal men, and what they are even doing here in the first place, when Olivia suddenly whirls away from the door, spearing her with a mischievous dark gaze, lip lifting in a knowing smirk.

"Oh, there you are, sleepyhead. Come say hello to your friends."

"Huh? My friends? W-what friends?" Amanda stutters out, trying to contain the shivering that seems to have overtaken her entire body; the erratic pounding of her heart threatening to make the organ burst right from her chest.

"Your friends from the alley, silly," Olivia replies with a chuckle. "And they brought a friend of their own." There is a slight pause, as if for dramatic effect. "A young woman. She's a brand new friend. They just met her last night."

Amanda's stomach suddenly drops and her heart seizes in her chest. "A young woman?" she whispers faintly.

"Yes," Olivia says, smiling widely at her now. "She's really pretty. Just like you." Her boss motions with one hand, beginning to sound a little more impatient. "Come say hello," she repeats.

"No, I don't want to," Amanda whimpers, feeling a sharp stab of betrayal as she takes a shaking step backward, prepared to bolt even though she knows she is trapped inside the apartment, the group at the door blocking her only means of escape.

"Don't be rude, Amanda," Olivia chastises sternly. "If you don't come over here right now, I'm going to let them in."

This threat takes a second to sink in and then Amanda is spinning sharply on her heel, turning to run before she can even get a look at the men, but they are on her in a flash, pulling at her pajamas with aggressive hands and yanking at her hair, the long blonde strands caught up in someone's large fist, and she opens her mouth to let loose with a shriek of pure terror, wrestling frantically with both of them, desperate to get away.

Once Amanda has started screaming, she can't seem to stop. The wild, primal sounds of fear are pouring from her throat without abating, and she slowly begins to realize that she is not scuffling with an actual person but with the blankets on her bed, jerking the sheets out from underneath herself and wrenching the covers away from someone else's hands, twisting them violently in her shuddering grip. She spots Olivia sitting up beside her in the disheveled blankets, thick hair and fuzzy pajamas rumpled with sleep, rubbing her eyes with one hand and reaching out toward her with the other, and she slips over the side of the mattress with a high-pitched squeak, knees scraping painfully across the carpet, likely leaving rug burns on her tender skin.

"Get the hell away from me!" Amanda snaps, glaring accusingly up at the older woman, Olivia peering down at her in bewilderment and distress, both hands hovering in the air now, murmuring something to her in a soothing voice. "I can't believe you did that to me!" she continues, the anger and betrayal that pierce through her stunning in their depth and intensity, and she can feel an acute physical pain residing inside her chest now. "How could you do that to me?"

Olivia is still speaking to her, hands remaining in the air, and as Amanda finally focuses on what she is saying, on words that are both anguished and firm falling from the other woman's lips, she becomes fully aware of what is happening now, that the appalling events that had just taken place had only been a part of the usual long line of seemingly never-ending bad dreams; that this time the woman she loves and the woman who had just been assaulted have been caught up in her nightmarish world, mingling in a way that horrifies her to the very core of her being.

She remembers slipping another couple of anti-anxiety pills under her tongue before bed, doing it surreptitiously without Olivia's knowledge, resolute in having a peaceful night free from the all-consuming panic of earlier and the bad dreams that continue to haunt her, and giving the older a woman a much-needed break from the near-constant drama, trying to let Olivia get plenty of rest before resuming her work with the case. Most of all she had wanted to get the images of random young women out of her mind; had wanted to rid herself of the rampant guilt that had taken up residence inside of her brain, twisting and turning until it was wrapped so tightly around her she could barely draw a breath without choking on it.

Her ill-conceived plan had apparently backfired, though, as her body is not used to medication of any kind, particularly one that is for reducing anxiety, and Amanda suddenly understands that what she had done was actually quite stupid and perhaps a little dangerous; that in her haste to obliterate her own torment, she had consumed more than the bottle had advised, not even taking notice of the proper dosage before sliding the pills beneath her tongue, her only intent being to put a stop to the horrendous thoughts and panic that had reared up out of nowhere from a previously calm, mundane Saturday. She can feel the lingering effects of the medication now, the dizziness and the nausea, the sticky perspiration that is matting her long hair to her head; the awareness that she is in her own bedroom with Olivia and free from her terrifying dreamscape, but that there is still a bit of an unreal quality clinging to everything, a slight murkiness that she can't seem to shake loose, the medication well beyond the point of being helpful now and seemingly turning on her as punishment for going overboard.

Amanda is at once overtaken by deep feelings of shame and regret at her own actions; having gone from being so determined not to use medication throughout her entire recovery process thus far, to carelessly popping a few pills just to make it through the night without having a breakdown, the shocking news of another victim hitting her harder than she ever imagined it would. These feelings only intensify when she gets a proper look at Olivia's face, taking in the hurt and confusion emanating from the older woman's expression, brows pulled sharply together in a frown, staring down at her with those liquid dark eyes full of compassion and something else, and Amanda's heart clenches when she sees that the other woman's hands are still raised high into the air, her boss apparently trying to appear as unthreatening as possible. She understands that what she is seeing is devastation; Olivia obviously trying very hard to contain her strong emotions at the stark realization that Amanda had been afraid of her, had been furious and betrayed at something that had only occurred inside her own head, but that Olivia herself had somehow been a part of, mixed up with the monsters who bear absolutely no resemblance to her, the extra pills seemingly having induced even more horrific nightmares than usual, instead of eliminating them.

A wave of nausea and guilt washes over Amanda and she gulps hard, still kneeling on the floor, body bent over the side of the mattress and hands clutching weakly at the blankets. "Liv, I'm so sorry," she says in a heartfelt whisper. "I didn't mean to react like that; I'm really sorry."

"It's okay, honey, just try to calm down; you're safe with me," Olivia replies softly, a slight hitch in her tone as she finally lowers her hands down and leans over to switch on the lamp, before sliding closer to her on the bed. "You're having some pretty bad dreams, huh?"

Amanda nods shakily, blinking in the sudden brightness of the room, heart thudding in a sickening way inside her chest and she swallows thickly against another wave of nausea, plucking uncomfortably at the pajama shirt that is plastered to her body like a second skin.

"Well, it's perfectly understandable, considering what's just happened. Your nightmares were still pretty bad before all of this, so I think you just need to give it some time, and they'll calm down a bit," Olivia assures her, confident voice wavering the tiniest amount, and then cocks her head to the side as she appears to be studying Amanda very closely now. "Sweetheart, you don't look very well," the other woman observes gently, gaze fixed intently upon her, dark eyes shining with unconcealed worry. "Are you okay?"

Amanda answers by clapping her hands firmly over her mouth and making a move to hoist her quivering body up off the floor, intending to make a mad dash into the bathroom, but is instantly aware that she isn't going to make it. The older woman also seems to realize this just in the nick of time and grabs the wastebasket from beside the nightstand, scrambling down onto the carpet beside Amanda and thrusting it beneath her chin. She vomits several times in quick succession, Olivia moving behind her to gather her damp hair into her hands and holding the long strands away from her face until she finishes. Finally Amanda sits back on her heels and drags a trembling arm across her mouth, her roiling stomach seeming to settle down for the time being.

"That must have been some dream," Olivia says quietly, one hand still clutching onto the soiled garbage bin and the other clasping Amanda's shoulder, a hint of hesitation in her touch. "Are you alright? Do you think you're going to be sick again?"

Amanda shakes her head, teeth chattering together slightly, and reaches out for the taller woman, Olivia still regarding her somewhat warily, like she is not sure whether to remain down on the floor with Amanda or get back onto the bed and give her some space. She feels the need to make physical contact of her own, to show Olivia that she now realizes it was just an awful nightmare and isn't actually afraid of her, so she reaches out to link their pinky fingers together, something they have been doing periodically since the night at the drive-in movie theater many months ago, when Olivia had first initiated this interaction between them; when she had known something was wrong with Amanda and had been trying to get her to talk. They have used this gesture with each other many times as a symbol of affection, but more often when something is amiss and one is trying to assure the other that everything is okay.

When Amanda tightens her finger around the older woman's and squeezes somewhat urgently, needing her boss to know how truly sorry she is, Olivia gives her a slight smile and squeezes right back, before her hand travels up Amanda's arm, plucking gently at the monkey-patterned pajama shirt that is clinging to her in drenched patches.

"Oh, baby, you are soaking wet," Olivia murmurs in concern. "Why don't you take those off and get changed into something dry while I go get a cold cloth?"

Amanda nods in agreement as the older woman grabs the garbage can and gets to her feet to leave the room momentarily, eager to remove the moist garment from her body, but her hands are shaking so hard that she can't seem to undo the buttons of the shirt herself, fingers fumbling clumsily against the fuzzy material. Olivia returns from the bathroom with a glass of water in one hand and notices her dilemma, kneeling down on the floor again and gently pushing Amanda's hands out of the way, undoing the buttons for her and sliding the shirt over her trembling shoulders, before helping her out of the pajama pants as well.

They sit cross-legged in front of each other, the older woman running the cool cloth soothingly over Amanda's face and chest, wiping the beads of sweat from her skin, being particularly careful with the scratches on her neck, before tenderly picking up each one of her arms and repeating the process, starting at her shoulders and working her way down to her hands. Amanda's eyes drift closed at Olivia's gentle ministrations, the cloth smoothing across her ribs now, feeling somewhat more comfortable than she had a few minutes earlier, although the combination of exhaustion and anxiety medication is beginning to take its toll on her and she feels the desperate need for more sleep; that pull of slumber begging her to sink back down beneath the depths of unconsciousness, her head drooping heavily toward her chest.

When she opens her eyes again, she finds herself staring straight into Olivia's sharp, questioning gaze, the older woman's head cocked slightly to the side. She watches as Olivia places the damp cloth on the floor and then grasps lightly onto both sides of her face, Amanda's brow wrinkling in confusion at the other woman's actions.

"Can you look at me, honey?" her boss asks, thumbs stroking back and forth across her cheekbones.

"I am looking at you," Amanda murmurs, but her gaze slides away as she feels a small curl of apprehension.

"Amanda." Olivia's voice is more firm now, and she feels her head being tilted back, the taller woman's hands pushing her tangled hair away from her face. "Look at me now, please."

Amanda meets her boss' gaze again, those knowing dark eyes penetrating deeply into her own, Olivia frowning down at her, expression both grim and empathetic. "Did you take more medication, sweetheart? Your eyes look a little funny and you don't seem to be entirely with me here." There is a brief pause, the other woman's voice sounding a bit more urgent now. "The bottle says to take one pill a day, Amanda. How many have you taken?"

"Just a couple more," she mutters guiltily. "I'm sorry, Liv. I just wanted a good night's sleep, but I guess that didn't turn out so well." She glances away from the older woman again, her voice coming out in a whisper now. "And I wanted to give you a break and try to get the horrible thoughts out of my head."

"Oh, honey." There is silence for a moment before she feels Olivia lean over to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "How many times do I have to tell you that I don't need a break from you? I'm here with you for everything, for both the good and the bad. We've been through a lot together and we'll get through this too. We're going catch him, and hopefully that will make those thoughts disappear from your mind." There is another brief beat of silence, as if Olivia is weighing her next words. "But you need to be very careful that you're only taking what the bottle specifies, sweetheart. You haven't had this medication before and your body isn't used to it."

"I know," Amanda sighs wearily, crumpling into Olivia arms and feeling the older woman enfold her tightly into her warm embrace. "It was stupid and I promise I won't do it again. I was just desperate to get him out of my head. And _her_ , too. I don't want to keep seeing it my mind...different women being hurt...and the things that he did to me..." She trails off as a shiver runs through her small frame, and Olivia's arms flex around her in response.

"I know you're having a really rough time with this, Amanda," the older woman replies softly, rocking her back and forth gently. "But to go from not taking any medication for your entire recovery to popping a few pills within the span of several hours is a little bit alarming, especially since you have been so adamant in staying away from them." She pulls back slightly to fix Amanda with a serious expression. "The pills are here when you absolutely need them, honey, but don't use them as a crutch. You need to remember that you have other medication for everyday use to help keep you steady, but that these particular ones are only for emergencies."

That urgency is still in Olivia's voice as she continues speaking; the apparent need to make sure Amanda is paying absolute attention to what she is saying, that she is listening and that there is some understanding penetrating through the blur of exhaustion and nightmares and medication. "Talk to me and talk to your doctors. Now more than ever, you need to keep communicating, okay? This is very important. I know it's much easier said than done, but don't completely shut down because of what is happening; don't automatically go straight to the self destructive route, okay?"

"I wasn't trying to be self destructive, Liv," Amanda snaps, a stab of anger spiking up through the fog of pills and fatigue and guilt, and she tries to twist away from the other woman but Olivia holds fast to her squirming form, tucking Amanda back against her body and rocking her soothingly again, obviously trying to keep her calm. "I told you why I did it and I also told you that I won't do it again. I'll only use them in emergency situations," she clarifies, leaning back in the older woman's arms to frown up at her boss, a hint of accusation in her tone now. "Please don't throw my previous mistakes in my face, Olivia, especially since you agreed with my doctors that I should have this medication on hand if I need it. I know I've screwed up in the past with the gambling and the alcohol when things have gotten out of control, and yes, I screwed up again tonight, but it was the first time in months."

Amanda pulls away from the other woman's tender touch and scrambles unsteadily to her feet before Olivia can reach out for her again. "I just wanted to make everything stop for a little while," she says through gritted teeth, rifling through her chest of drawers for another pair of pajamas and yanking them on roughly, feeling the need to be fully clothed if this is going to explode into a huge fight; feeling silly and stupid trying to argue her position while laying stark naked in the older woman's arms. "Everything has been going so much better, like there is finally some light at the end of the tunnel, but now I feel like I've just been drop kicked back to the starting line," she continues, choking up momentarily before getting ahold of herself. "I feel like I've just had a bomb dropped on me."

The room whirls around her for a brief second and she falters on her feet, Olivia getting up quickly from the floor and grasping onto her arms. "Come on, sweetheart, let's get back into bed," she urges softly.

Despite her anger with the situation, Amanda lets the taller woman tuck her under the covers and spoon her from behind, craving that physical touch once again; that familiar need to be close to Olivia always hovering right there at the surface, even when she is less than pleased with her boss. Olivia wraps her up in her strong embrace and holds onto her tightly, as if she is afraid Amanda will slip from her grasp and do something she shouldn't, and she knows the other woman is thinking about the times Amanda has slipped up in the past, turning to gambling or alcohol when things have taken a turn for the worse, and she resolves not to let herself slip up yet again; to cling as tightly as she can to the person she has been becoming over the past couple of months, so relieved to finally be catching glimpses of her former self from time to time, the future looking a little brighter than it once had.

She has to try as hard as she can to keep pushing forward, to keep forging her way through the nightmares that have never left her, the anxiety that has popped back up once again, and those disturbing thoughts that she just cannot seem to rid herself of; to try to curb those urges to calm her pain in any way she can think of, not sure if she will ever be entirely free of this particular way of dealing with her issues. Olivia seems quite resolute that they will catch the man who has put Amanda and at least one other woman through this hell, even though he has managed to elude capture once again, and she needs to be ready if and when that happens; needs to be at the top of her game and do everything she possibly can to help get this monster off the streets.

She knows that she will be able to recognize his voice instantly if she ever hears it again, but the fact that she hadn't actually gotten a proper look at him or had a physical exam done after the assault remains problematic. For now he is still the shadowy man from her nightmares, that indistinct figure who has taken up residence inside her brain to torment her at regular intervals, but she is hoping to soon be able to put a face with the voice; that he will be caught before he can rip more lives apart, and that no matter how terrifying it might be to confront her demons head on, it is a necessary evil and one that needs to happen in order to keep moving forward.

"How are you doing?" Olivia whispers into her ear, the other woman's chin resting lightly on her shoulder, arms looped around Amanda's waist. "Are you still feeling sick?"

She shakes her head, reaching down to link their pinky fingers together once again, not wanting there to be any distance between them, either physically or emotionally, even though she is still a little disgruntled with their previous conversation, not enjoying having her mistakes pointed out when she is not only aware that she was wrong, but has also admitted to it. "Just a little dizzy," she murmurs, lip quirking up at the side when she feels Olivia squeezing her finger tightly in return, knowing the older woman is upset and unsettled with how the night is progressing; that she has been mixed up with the monsters in Amanda's nightmares, the bad dreams likely exacerbated due to the medication, and that her worry for Amanda's state of mind is most likely consuming her, just as shocked as Amanda herself is at the news of another victim after all this time.

"We're going to catch him," Olivia says, voice still a whisper but sounding much more fierce now.

"So you've said," Amanda mutters, eyebrow arching slightly at the sudden passionate tone. "You seem very sure of yourself there, Liv."

"We have to catch him," the older woman replies, a hint of sadness and desperation apparent now, causing Amanda to shift in her embrace and look up at Olivia with somewhat hazy, concerned blue eyes. "We don't have a choice. I can't stand what this is doing to you, sweetheart. It's so difficult to watch you go through this. I love you so much and it just hurts, Amanda. I want you to be okay; I want you to be happy."

Amanda strokes a gentle hand over the other woman's cheek, tracing her lips with the edge of a fingernail. "You make me happy, Liv," she says softly. "No matter what else is going on, that part never changes. You are the best thing in my life and I'm going to try harder, okay? I'm going to try harder for you. I don't want to disappoint you again."

"Oh, honey." Olivia sighs heavily, a sound that seems to contain a variety of emotions, and Amanda feels her head being tucked against the older woman's chest, Olivia running a hand over the hair that is still matted to her head with drying sweat and cool water from the cloth. "You don't have to worry about disappointing me. And you _do_ try hard; I've seen so much evidence of that over the past few months, and I am so proud of the progress you've made. But keeping trying hard for _yourself_ and no one else."

She pauses to tilt Amanda's head back so they are eye to eye now, and Amanda is overwhelmed with the love and fear she sees shining in the older woman's gaze. "I know you are devastated by what has happened, sweetheart, and you have a right to be. I don't want to minimize anything you are feeling or going through, and I know you need time to come to terms with it, but don't let it take away everything you have worked for, don't let yourself drown in the guilt of something that is in no way your fault."

There are tears in Olivia's eyes now and Amanda's heart clenches as she takes in the intense emotions in the older woman's expression. "I know you said you are going to keep trying, but I need you to promise me that you are telling the truth; that you won't give up. I need your word on this. Don't let this man take anything else from you, Amanda, especially your peace of mind. He doesn't deserve it; he doesn't deserve anything from you. The only thing he deserves is a prison cell."

"I promise, Liv," Amanda whispers, her words heartfelt and vehement despite the hushed tone of voice, and she doesn't know what she would do without Olivia in her life, without her strength and passion and love; cannot imagine that there had ever been a time when they were not so intrinsically connected and entwined, both body and soul. "I won't give up, you have my word."


	24. Chapter 24

**Warning: This chapter is rated "M" for very explicit sexual content, so please be aware of this before you continue reading, if you find that kind of thing offensive or you are not interested in reading it. I realize that the more intimate scenes are not everyone's cup of tea, so to speak. :)**

xxx

When Amanda wakes up on Sunday morning, she is groggy and slightly nauseated, momentarily confused as to why she appears to have somewhat of a hangover, as she has not had a drop of alcohol for months now. She stares up at the ceiling with a deeply furrowed brow, racking her brain and trying to recall what has happened, when the events of the night come flooding back to her in a sudden rush. She remembers with acute accuracy the overwhelming sadness and guilt she had felt on behalf of the other victim, sneaking a couple more pills so she could try to obliterate the haunting thoughts from her head and have a good sleep, the terrible nightmare that had included the person she loves most in the world, vomiting into her garbage can on the floor while Olivia had held her hair back, and then arguing briefly but heatedly with her before promising the older woman that she wouldn't give up, that she wouldn't let the monster from the alley take anything else from her.

Amanda rolls over in the bed with a groan, scrubbing her hands over her face and raking them back through her rat's nest of blonde hair, the long strands sticking up at awkward angles all over her head; the profuse sweating from her nightmare and subsequent vomiting session, and Olivia's gentle ministrations with the cold cloth, having caused quite the hideous hairstyle to have formed throughout the past few hours. There is a sour taste in her mouth and she realizes that she had only drank a glass of water, but hadn't actually brushed her teeth, after throwing up during the night. The fresh pair of pajamas she had put on earlier are sticking to her once again, and she feels gross and unkempt, and is not surprised to find herself alone in the bed. The sheets beside her are rumpled and chilled as if Olivia had woken up some time ago and vacated the room when she had gotten a better look at Amanda's frightening appearance in the dim morning light.

She swings her legs over the side of the mattress, mixed feelings coursing through her at the thought of facing the other woman this morning. As usual, she wants nothing more than to seek Olivia out and throw herself into the taller woman's embrace, seemingly incapable of being physically separated from her for any length of time without missing her, no matter what has been happening between them, but she stops short from making her way into the kitchen, listening to the clinking of dishes and the faint sounds of the radio. She can smell breakfast cooking, the scent of bacon and eggs and coffee wafting under the bedroom door, and a tendril of hunger uncurls inside her stomach, mouth watering a little at the delicious aromas, despite the faintly persistent nausea.

Amanda creeps to the bedroom door and eases it open, poking her head into the hallway to make sure Olivia is not going to suddenly appear in front of her, announcing that it is time to eat. She is deeply ashamed of how she has reacted to the news of another victim, seemingly unable to maintain that precarious control she has worked so hard to achieve, falling apart and plummeting towards rock bottom again so swiftly and completely, and she knows she has disappointed Olivia, has scared her deeply, despite her boss' assurances that she doesn't need to worry about it; that she only needs to be concerned with continuing on with her recovery and not engaging in any more of her self destructive habits. The promise she had made to Olivia that she wouldn't give up is at the forefront of her thoughts, and she fully intends to keep that promise, a gritty resolve forming in her mind and piercing through the clinging cobwebs of sleep and medication.

Amanda bites down on her bottom lip very briefly before unclenching her teeth quickly, not wanting to start up yet another bad habit that she has been able to break since entering the PTSD program, the therapy focusing on every single detail that has needed to be fixed, no matter how big or small. She tiptoes into the bathroom, feeling the need to be clean before starting this day; before facing Olivia after screwing up yet again, and before going over the details of her case one more time, doing everything she possibly can to help catch the shadowy man of her nightmares and hoping to finally find out if they have been hunting for one monster or two, if that elusive friend with the car actually exists or not.

Amanda shrugs out of her second set of sweaty pajamas and tosses them to the floor before brushing her teeth and starting the shower, not even bothering to glance at her reflection, figuring she looks just as nasty as she feels. The warm water feels wonderful as it rains down over her head and body, washing away the disturbing remnants of the night, and she turns it up as hot as she can stand it, leaning her face into the tiled wall and closing her eyes. The anxiety that had been spiking out of control the day before seems to have settled down quite a bit, at least for the time being, and there is only a bone-deep exhaustion and sadness for a woman she has never met that lingers in its wake.

There is a soft knock at the door, one that can barely be heard over the loud rushing of water, and Amanda cracks an eye open at the creaking sound, relieved to no longer be afraid of who it might be; the knowledge that she is now capable of taking a shower without worrying that some stranger is going to come in and assault her in the bathtub bolstering her confidence somewhat, even after the terrible night she has just endured. She holds onto this small piece of herself that she has recovered, something that hasn't been taken from her again with the devastating news of yesterday, and this tiny victory gives her hope that she will be able to continue to move forward, that the man from the alley will be caught and she and the other victim will eventually emerge from this hell to be able to live full and productive lives.

Amanda's longing to return to work at the precinct and finally feel like an equal partner in this relationship she shares with Olivia is so strong that it is almost tangible, something she can practically reach out and touch. There is hope that the woman she loves will not have to be the one to pick up the shattered fragments of Amanda's life again and again; that one day Amanda will be capable of doing this all on her own, and that perhaps everything will eventually stop falling to pieces entirely and life will just be gloriously normal once more.

She knows that life with Olivia will never be completely mundane and quiet, not while the older woman is still lieutenant, and with Amanda's eventual return to a job that deals with the worst of what humanity has to offer, but the thought that a good chunk of their lives may someday not revolve around her own trauma causes that faint hope to grow just a little bit more. And she has to admit that neither one of them would likely be content with too tranquil a life; that they both need the adrenaline rush that comes with being out in the field and getting the perpetrators off the streets, that need they share to do some good for the victims they encounter on a daily basis and to give them the hope that Amanda herself clings to that justice will one day be served and there will finally be some form of vindication.

"Hey, honey, sorry to interrupt," Olivia says, voice rising to be heard over the din of the shower. "I just wanted to see how you're doing this morning, and to tell you that breakfast is on the table whenever you're done."

"Thanks, Liv; it smells great," Amanda replies, peeking through the curtain to see the older woman standing there and shifting hesitantly from foot to foot, blatant concern written across her face. "And I'm fine," she adds quickly, knowing this is somewhat of a lie; that she is certainly doing better than she had been during the night, but is still quite far from the definition of 'fine', and waits for her boss to call her out on it.

Olivia is quiet for a moment and then her dark gaze zeroes in on Amanda's as the other woman catches sight of her looking through the space between the curtain and the wall, and they regard each other in brief silence.

"I'm fine, Liv," Amanda repeats in a firmer tone of voice, and Olivia's lips purse slightly before opening her mouth as if to debate that statement. She quirks an eyebrow at the older woman as if challenging Olivia to argue with her, and the other woman closes her mouth, giving her a small smile in return.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that, honey," she answers, a faint note of skepticism evident in her tone, and Amanda smiles back quickly before turning away and lathering up her hands with shampoo, an indication that this conversation is over and she intends to continue on with her shower.

She feels a sharp stab of guilt for her swift dismissal of the older woman, knowing Olivia is quite concerned about the events that had taken place during the night and that she has a right to be, but Amanda doesn't wish to dwell on it; doesn't want the rest of the weekend to revolve around the fact that she had screwed up yet again, that the mistakes of her past have reared up in a form they never have before, by using pills seemingly in the place of gambling or alcohol. She is firmly committed to keep pushing forward, her own frightening actions having lit a fire inside of her, similar to what had happened after she had decided that downing a bottle of vodka would be a great way to help control her anxiety when she had briefly lost Olivia's ring all those months ago. There is a renewed sense of resolve not to let herself slide any further than she already has, and she is not in the mood for a lecture, even though she knows it would be coming from a place of love.

Amanda breathes a sigh of relief as she hears Olivia exit the bathroom, and squeezes her eyes shut as she rubs the shampoo vigorously over her head. She feels much better after she is done showering and is standing in front of the mirror, combing through her long wet strands of clean hair, although the remnants of the medication seem to be causing a lingering heat inside her body, and she doesn't dress in anything more than a pair of pink panties and a white tank top, before padding into the kitchen to join Olivia for breakfast.

The older woman is sitting at the table in front of steaming plates of food and cups of coffee waiting to be consumed, and despite Amanda's need to hide herself away in the shower and her reluctance to engage in any kind of serious discussion about the previous night's events, she ignores her own chair and slides right onto Olivia's lap, sucking in her breath a little as she squeezes herself between her boss and the table. The other woman's computer and phone are out, and it looks like she had been working on the current case before preparing their morning meal. Olivia closes the laptop before wrapping her arms around Amanda's waist and hugging her tightly from behind, cheek resting against her shoulder blades.

"Well, if it isn't my Little Pantless Monkey. If I didn't know any better, I'd say we were in the middle of a summer heat wave and not one of the coldest winters we've ever had, considering the way you're dressed," the older woman chuckles by way of greeting, unsurprised amusement and affection lacing her tone as her hands skim lightly over the tops of Amanda's thighs.

She shivers slightly and then turns around in Olivia's embrace, one arm looping around the back of the older woman's neck, and immediately notices the seriousness lurking beneath the mirth when their gazes lock together. Olivia's dark eyes are boring a little too intensely into her own blue ones, as if searching deeply for something, and she feels her stomach clenching faintly with apprehension.

"How's your anxiety doing today?" her boss asks quietly, fingertips smoothing over Amanda's cheekbone in a featherlight touch. "Have you had anymore panic attacks?"

She shakes her head, reaching up to grasp Olivia's hand and linking their fingers together, bringing their joined hands down to rest in her lap. "I'm okay, Liv. I'm doing better this morning. Has there been any news with the case?"

"No, not yet," the older woman replies softly, squeezing Amanda's fingers with her own. "Are you sure you're doing better?" She pauses briefly. "Yesterday was pretty rough for you and last night was even worse. You scared me a bit, sweetheart."

"I know I did," Amanda murmurs and glances away, a blush creeping across her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Liv. I know it was bad. But I'm alright."

The other woman is silent for a moment, and when Amanda looks at her again, she sees that Olivia's brow is somewhat furrowed, a thoughtful expression fixed on her concerned features. Amanda knows that Olivia is looking for signs that she hasn't kept her promise; that the anxiety is still bad and she had again popped some pills when the older woman had left her alone in the room, and despite her best efforts to stay calm and to put the events from the middle of the night out of her mind, she finds herself getting riled up again. There is a sudden desperate urge to show Olivia that she was serious with her promise of not giving up; that she had meant what she said and that the older woman can trust that Amanda will continue to move forward with her recovery, that she will at least _try_ as hard as she possibly can to not let the news of another victim take her down even further than she has already fallen.

"You don't believe me, do you?" she whispers, trying to keep her tone calm and steady, but her voice rises heatedly, so sick and tired of life in general at the moment, that she has just about had enough and is unable to reign in her emotions. "You don't trust me to keep my promise that I won't give up because I broke that other promise to you all those months ago? You think I'm going to keep screwing up because this has knocked me down so far that I can't get back up again?"

Olivia opens her mouth to speak but there is a slight hesitation there, and Amanda has her answer before she even hears what the other woman has to say. "Okay, fine, Liv, I'll show you that I'm serious."

She is standing up and stalking back into their bedroom before Olivia can even get a word out, ignoring her boss' questioning touch on her arm as the older woman hurries after her. Amanda swipes both bottles of anti-anxiety pills off the top of the nightstand and then leans down to yank open the door of the little cabinet, revealing a shelf of untouched medication inside. There are pills for a variety of different ailments; prescriptions that she has dutifully filled over the past several weeks on the advice of her doctors, but has chosen not to take, opting to see if the talk-therapy will do the job first, and she gathers all of them into her hands, along with anything else she can find, including the regular over-the-counter pain remedies and fever reducers that are leftover from when she and Olivia had been so ill back in the fall.

"Amanda, what are you doing?" the other woman asks sharply, and Amanda feels Olivia's fingers grazing her arm again as she marches past her and into the bathroom, intending to line all of the medication bottles up along the counter before unscrewing the tops one by one and flushing each and every single pill down the toilet.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she mutters, struggling to hold onto everything as Olivia steps in front of her, blocking her path. "I'm getting rid of all of this shit, just like we got rid of all of the alcohol after I choose to deal with my anxiety by downing a bottle of booze. I'm going to do better, Olivia. I'm going to stop falling apart every time something terrible happens, and you'll see that you can trust me again."

"Okay, Amanda, _stop_ ," the older woman answers sternly, a firm hand clenched upon her arm. "You're blowing this out of proportion. I _do_ trust you. And these medications were approved by your doctors. You're _allowed_ to take them if you need to, unlike the alcohol; but I'm just asking that you do it properly, that you do it in moderation, and you don't lose control with them when you're going through a hard time. You don't need to get rid of everything, sweetheart; you just need to be more careful."

"But what if I can't be careful with them, Liv?" Amanda says softly, feeling a deep anguish and strong self-doubt suddenly rising from within and taking root, and she can hear dozens of pills rattling around in their bottles as her hands begin to shake. "What if my best intentions aren't good enough? What if this is just like everything else; the gambling, the alcohol, even when I couldn't stop biting my bottom lip? What if this is just the beginning of another problem? If we can't catch this asshole in time before he hurts someone else, is this going to happen again? Is this going to keep happening because I can't get him out of my head, because I can't get that poor woman out of my head?" Her voice breaks on a dry sob. "Maybe you're right not to trust me, Liv."

"Amanda, honey, you are not listening to me," Olivia replies intensely, both hands clutching onto her arm now. "I _do_ trust you. And I understand your concerns. Considering what has happened in the past, they are definitely valid, but I think you need to talk to your doctors before making any rash decisions like this. Last night you said that you felt like a bomb had been dropped on you; that you were back at the starting line again, so I'm not sure if you're thinking clearly right now. I think you need to discuss this when you go back to the program tomorrow. You need to let them know what has happened over the weekend, so they can figure out the best way to proceed with everything, the best way to help you."

"So I can't help myself?" Amanda challenges, one eyebrow arching in annoyance, and she feels that familiar anxiety simmering just below the surface again; that the events of the past twenty-four hours are doing their best to keep knocking her down, but she is resolute in not taking even one more step backwards in her recovery. "I can't make my own decisions? You say that you trust me, Liv, but you're not acting like you do. And what's the difference if I throw everything out? I haven't been taking most of this stuff anyway, so why does it matter? You were so upset with me during the night for taking too many pills, and now you're upset that I'm throwing them away? I don't understand."

"Honey, it is ultimately your decision on what to with your own medication," Olivia says gently. "All I'm asking is that you wait to talk to your doctors first. You tend to do these kinds of things when something negative happens, instead of thinking things through first. It seems to be either all or nothing with you, sweetheart. It is possible to find a happy medium here; to take the medication when needed but not to go overboard."

"Well, apparently there is no happy medium for me," she mutters in response. "I don't want to risk doing anything stupid again. If my addictive personality is just picking an addiction in another form, I don't want to help it along." She pauses for a moment. "You said that I scared you last night, Liv. Well, I scared myself too, okay? I know I only took a few pills, but what happens when they aren't enough? What happens if the entire bottle starts to look good next time?"

Her heart rate has begun to steadily increase and her breath is coming out in short pants, and Amanda realizes that she needs to get ahold of herself before her panic begins to spin out of control once again and the medication she is holding in her shuddering grip starts to look as enticing as it had the night before. She has managed to unscrew some of the bottle caps, and is struggling to set them all down on the counter before systematically flushing each and every single pill down the toilet, when everything suddenly slips from her arms and goes crashing onto the floor, pills exploding into the air and raining down across the tiles before scattering into every corner of the room.

Amanda stands there in stunned silence for a moment as she gazes down at the mess on the floor, completely overwhelmed now, before covering her face with her hands and bursting into tears. She is bending down to start gathering up the spilled medication when she feels Olivia's hands grasping onto her elbows from behind and hoisting her back up, the older woman leading her into their bedroom and guiding her to sit down on the bed, before gently pushing Amanda to lay back against the pillows and tucking her underneath the covers.

She rolls over to bury her face in the pillow, and it appears that the previous evening is replaying itself again as she finds herself sobbing uncontrollably in Olivia's embrace once more, the taller woman getting beneath the blankets as well and molding her body into Amanda's from behind, chin resting on her shoulder and murmuring soothing words into her ear. Olivia's arms are wrapped tightly around her waist, one hand slipping beneath her tank top to rub comforting circles across the warm skin of her stomach and linking the fingers of her other hand with Amanda's, squeezing firmly.

"It's okay, sweetheart, just take it easy," the older woman murmurs into her ear, compassion and understanding at Amanda's mood swings radiating from her tone, and the tender empathy from the woman she loves only makes her cry even harder for a moment, before letting out a loud hiccup and trying to sniff back her tears, overcome with frustration at her apparent inability to get control of her emotions.

"S-sorry, Liv," she stutters out shakily. "I didn't mean to get all dramatic on you again. I'm just so sick of this shit. I just want to catch this guy and get on with my life. I need everything to be over and done with now. It's been such a long time. I'm more than ready to move on. I thought I _was_ moving on. I just don't want there to be anymore obstacles to deal with."

"I know, baby," Olivia replies quietly, and Amanda feels herself being turned over in the bed so she is lying on her back with Olivia stretched out beside her, the older woman's elbow propped up on the pillow, bracing her head in one hand while the other wipes the tears from Amanda's cheeks and smooths her damp hair back from her face. "And you don't have to apologize for anything. Just let yourself feel what you need to feel right now. We can talk about everything later. We'll just stay in here until you're able to calm down a bit, okay?"

"But what about breakfast? It's going to get cold," Amanda reminds her, feeling bad that Olivia has gone to the trouble of making a nice meal for them to start their day while simultaneously working so hard on the case, but the other woman gently shushes her, fingertips smoothing lightly across Amanda's puckered forehead.

"Don't worry about it, honey. We'll make something else later. Just try to relax right now," Olivia says quietly.

"Liv, I feel like I can't calm down," Amanda whimpers, and the other woman lays her head down on the pillow right next to her own, bringing their faces close together and placing a soft kiss on her cheek. "The anxiety is so bad. I just need it to stop."

"Okay, I'm going to help you, honey," Olivia soothes. "Just close your eyes and be in the moment here with me. Try to empty your mind of everything right now. It's just you and me here; just the two of us in our warm, cozy bed. We are both safe and sound and everything is going to be okay. This is just a temporary setback and we're going to get through it together."

Amanda's heart is still racing out of control and a stray tear rolls down her cheek. "Just stay here with me, Liv. Don't let go of me," she pleads, trying to dig deep within herself to find that sense of control that seems to have fallen by the wayside over the past twenty-four hours.

"I'm not going anywhere," Olivia promises gently, and Amanda's eyelids flutter closed as she feels the older woman kiss the tear from her cheek. "I won't let go of you. I've got you, baby. We can stay in here as long as you need to."

"Sorry, I know you have other things to do-" Amanda starts to say, the guilt rising up again to entwine with the other mix of emotions, but Olivia places a finger over her lips.

"Everything else can wait," she replies firmly. "You are all that matters right now. I'm not doing anything else until I know you're okay."

Amanda's eyes remain closed as she listens to the other woman talk, Olivia continuing to stoke a hand over her body, the soft touches to her head and face and bare arms beginning to very slowly calm her down. The guilt at keeping Olivia from her work ebbs away somewhat and all she wants is to stay here with the woman she loves, hidden away from the horrors of the outside world in their own little comforting nest of pillows and blankets. She doesn't want to think about brutal strangers who hurt women for the fun of it, victims who are only at the beginning of their long journeys to recovery, and victims of the future who are currently carrying on with their normal lives with no clue that everything will one day change. Most of all, she does not want to be tempted to get out of this bed and go back into the bathroom to pluck a tiny white pill from the cold tiles of the floor and slip it beneath her tongue.

When Olivia stops speaking to her in that hushed, soothing tone, the silence stretches out between them, seemingly more content now, and Amanda has no idea how much time has passed as she relishes in the tender caresses and comfort that the other woman is providing, trying as hard as she can to follow Olivia's advice and just be in the moment with her. She feels a pleasant tingling sensation sweeping through her body as Olivia's hand slips underneath her tank top again, one fingertip tracing light circles over her ribs and around her belly button. The more she concentrates on the older woman's touch, the more pleasurable her thoughts become, and there is a hint of arousal pushing up through the darkness now and edging out the worry and despair. She grasps onto this new sensation gratefully, back arching slightly as Olivia's fingers absently graze the underside of one of her breasts, and all Amanda wants now is to be with Olivia fully and completely; for each and every black thought to be entirely obliterated from her brain, even if only for a very short period of time.

"Liv, I don't want these awful thoughts in my head anymore. I need a break," she finally whispers, after it has been silent for a long time, and her heart rate is picking up once again, but this time for a different reason. "I don't want to think about addiction issues or details of my assault or what that young woman is going through. I only want you in my head and no one else. I just need to forget about everything right now." She opens her eyes again and meets Olivia's kind gaze, the other woman staring back at her intently, and reaches up to thread her fingers through the thick brunette hair that is falling over her boss' shoulder. "Can you help me forget? Just for a little while?" She pauses for a moment. "Please?"

Olivia doesn't respond right away, her penetrating dark gaze locked onto Amanda's tired blue eyes, seemingly searching very deeply for something, like she had when they had been sitting at the kitchen table earlier. Finally she gives a slow nod of assent and Amanda guides the older woman's face down to her own, lips pressing together in a gentle kiss. Olivia's hand is still tucked up beneath her shirt, having paused momentarily in her soothing touches, and Amanda feels her pull away from their kiss to look down at her again, a shiver running through her body at the way Olivia is staring so fervently at her; that familiar awareness that the older woman can somehow see straight through into her soul.

"Are you sure this is okay?" her boss whispers, and Amanda notices the play of emotions across her features; the love and concern and a deepening arousal that seems to match her own, Olivia's eyes darkening even more as her pupils dilate, and she feathers her fingers tenderly through the other woman's hair again.

"I'm sure," she says softly but emphatically. "I need you, Olivia. I love you."

"I love you too, Amanda. So much." There is a slight sheen of tears in the older woman's eyes before she blinks sharply and they disappear, and her hand is moving to grasp onto the hem of Amanda's shirt, lifting it over her head. "I want to help you forget."

Amanda watches Olivia lean away for a moment to remove her own shirt and jeans, leaving her in a white lace bra and matching panties, olive skin glowing in the dim morning light, before the older woman catches her lips in another kiss, hand sliding up to lightly palm one of her breasts, thumb circling around her nipple and pinching it gently between her fingers. Her back arches once again, a moan slipping from between her lips as Olivia lowers her head to place a lingering open-mouthed kiss on one breast and then the other, lips closing around a nipple and tongue swiping gently over the tiny pink bud.

"Tell me what you want," the other woman murmurs, words somewhat muffled and ragged as she speaks them against the heated skin of Amanda's chest, and she laughs lightly, tangling her fingers in Olivia's tousled hair.

"What do you think I want, Liv?" she asks softly, amusement and arousal lacing her tone, and she gazes down at the older woman through heavy-lidded eyes full of need and desire, desperate to experience something other than her own darkness, and very welcoming of these other feelings that are being stirred up inside of her. It has been months since they have been this intimate with each other and Amanda's panties begin to feel damp with anticipation.

"Tell me," Olivia urges quietly, elbow propped up on the pillow once again, head resting in her hand as she stares intensely down at Amanda, and the side of her lip quirks up in an affectionate smile, the older woman still seemingly seeking permission for taking things further, even though her other hand is currently massaging Amanda's breast, the incredible sensations coursing through her body causing her head to spin.

"Well, I think you're doing pretty well on your own there, but if you still can't seem to figure it out for yourself, then I guess I'll have to show you," Amanda chuckles in a teasing voice, Olivia's hesitation proving as it always has in the past to be both frustrating and endearing, and the combination of the two has Amanda's heart racing even faster as she takes in that look of blatant arousal on the other woman's face now, the expression unable to be mistaken for anything else.

"Okay, show me," Olivia whispers, and another moan escapes Amanda's throat at the sultry tone of her boss' voice, their gazes remaining locked on one another as Amanda gently picks up Olivia's hand in her own and raises her fingers to her mouth.

She sucks two of the other woman's fingers between her lips, warm tongue swirling around the digits and causing a breathy sound to emit from Olivia's throat, before guiding her boss' hand down her body, skimming over her ribs and stomach and slipping beneath the waistband of her underwear. They groan simultaneously as their joined hands meet the wet heat between Amanda's thighs and she opens her legs wider to give Olivia more access, removing her own hand and shifting her hips slightly to encourage the older woman to start moving her fingers.

Olivia hesitates only briefly before complying, fingers gliding back and forth beneath the damp material of Amanda's panties, and she squeezes her eyes shut, a continuous panting sound emanating from her mouth now, feeling as if she is on the verge of exploding already. There is just something about the other woman's touch that drives her completely wild, that takes her out of her own head and beyond reality and leaves her gasping for breath, and she knows it won't take long to get her release, even though Olivia has just barely begun touching her. She seems to be lacking control in most areas of her life at the moment, but this particular lack of control only causes amusement instead of fear or guilt, as no one in her life has ever been able to turn her on the way Olivia does; the other woman's ability to cause instant arousal akin to flipping a switch, Amanda seemingly transitioning from a professional woman in her mid-thirties to a horny teenage boy in the space of seconds.

She feels Olivia's fingers gently spreading her lower lips apart, thumb circling repeatedly around her tingling bundle of nerves and Amanda's stomach muscles contract tightly, her hands locked around the older woman's arm, skin dewy with a light sheen of sweat. That rapidly building pressure between her legs is already signaling an impending explosion and she loudly moans Olivia's name, the other woman leaning down to press a kiss against her moist forehead.

"Open your eyes, baby. Look at me," Olivia commands softly, and Amanda struggles to lift her heavy lids, their gazes locking intently onto one another just as the older woman slides two fingers inside of her, curling them deeply into warm wet heat, and that's all it takes.

Amanda's back is arching off the bed and her eyes are rolling back in her head as she shatters completely to pieces, Olivia's name dragging out on a whimper in between breathy little cries, and before she can settle back down onto the mattress, the other woman's fingers are moving inside of her again. She inhales sharply in pleased surprise and it only takes a few seconds before another orgasm is slamming into her with enough force to knock the breath out of her lungs, followed immediately by a third.

" _Fuck_ , Liv," Amanda gasps out, when she can finally catch her breath enough to speak, and she hears the older woman chuckling softly beside her before gathering Amanda into her arms and holding her tightly against her chest.

"Are you okay?" Olivia asks softly, lips pressed into the crown of Amanda's head, her hair still damp with a combination of shower water and sweat.

"Yeah," Amanda murmurs gratefully, eyes drifting closed again as she snuggles closer to the other woman, deliberately keeping her mind blank and just allowing herself to bask in the afterglow, needing to have this time with the woman she loves and determined not to let her thoughts stray to anything of a darker nature just yet. "Thank you, Liv," she adds quietly.

"It was my pleasure," Olivia replies, and Amanda's lip quirks up at the smile in the older woman's voice.

"No, actually, I think it was mine," she corrects with a slight giggle, and then reaches down to pull her damp panties off and toss them to the floor, before rolling over to wrap an arm around Olivia's waist and drape a leg over her thigh. "But I can give you some of your own, if you want..." She trails off, arching a suggestive eyebrow when she meets her boss' gaze.

Olivia's smile widens and Amanda smiles back before leaning down to capture the other woman's lips in a searing kiss, moving her knee up between Olivia's legs and pressing in somewhat firmly. Her boss gasps softly, and Amanda reaches a hand between Olivia's back and the rumpled sheets, undoing her bra and helping to slide the garment off the older woman's arms before throwing it to the floor to join the growing pile of clothing that has been shed. She doesn't hesitate before lowering her head to take a hardened nipple into her mouth, sucking softly and smiling again against the other woman's heated skin when she hears the noise that her action elicits.

Amanda takes Olivia's other breast into her hand, gently palming the warm weight and rolling the stiffened peak between her fingers while continuing to suck lightly at her nipple. There is a dampness between her legs again as she listens to the breathy moans coming from above and she grinds herself into Olivia's thigh, smearing wetness across the older woman's skin and causing the sounds pouring from her boss' lips to intensify briefly, before sliding down Olivia's body. She places lingering kisses across the other woman's quivering stomach, tongue dipping into her navel, and hooks a finger under the waistband of Olivia's white panties. Amanda smiles when she spots the damp patch on the crotch of the taller woman's underwear and briefly removes her hand from the waistband to run a fingernail over the moist material, causing Olivia's hips to buck off the bed.

"Lift up a bit, Liv," she says softly, when the other woman has settled back down, and Olivia raises her hips again so Amanda can grasp onto the lacy garment and slip it down her legs before pushing Olivia's thighs apart and positioning herself between them on the mattress.

She can smell her boss' arousal, can see the excitement coating her lower lips, and it only makes her even wetter than she already is, the need she has for this woman seemingly insatiable, but Amanda knows that it is Olivia's turn to be pleasured and that she herself has been waiting for months to lavish it upon her. She wants nothing more than to bring Olivia comfort and happiness and the release she so desperately needs and deserves, and the love she has for the older woman is suddenly threatening to overwhelm her; causing those deep emotions to rise to the surface again, so Amanda quickly lowers her head between Olivia's thighs before they can break free and let loose.

The first swipe of her tongue is rewarded with a very loud moan, and she hums softly against the other woman's sodden skin, her own core tightening in response and Amanda is pretty sure she is going to experience yet another orgasm just by giving Olivia her own. She spreads the older woman wider with her thumbs and sucks the straining bundle of nerves into her mouth, Olivia's hips pushing wantonly into her face now, her boss' fingers winding their way into her long hair and holding on firmly.

It is obvious that the other woman is just as turned on as she herself is and that it isn't going to take much longer than it had for Amanda to reach the inevitable earth-shattering conclusion, and she swiftly enters Olivia with two fingers, starting off slowly and then picking up to a steadier pace, the sounds above growing louder and more forceful in their intensity. Her boss is moaning Amanda's name repeatedly now and pulling at her hair more insistently, and she adds a third finger, causing Olivia's hips to buck sharply again, swirling her tongue over and around the tiny pink bud before sucking on it very firmly again, and she feels the older woman's thighs clamp strongly around her head. Amanda curls her fingers toward Olivia's spongy front wall and the other woman's body goes rigid for a long moment before there is a gush of wetness on her palm, followed by a long drawn out moan that turns into a whimper, and she feels her own orgasm take hold once again, limbs shuddering in response.

Amanda kisses her way back up the taller woman's body and presses her lips against Olivia's before either of them can catch their breath, sliding her tongue into her boss' mouth so Olivia can taste herself. They kiss passionately for several minutes, rolling over each other in the bed, a brief frenzied wildness overtaking them as they seem unable to get enough of one another, hands traveling over moist skin and fingers tangling into sweaty locks of hair, each panting raggedly into the other's mouth. Amanda slides her leg between Olivia's thighs again and presses her knee firmly into the other woman's center, her boss inhaling sharply at the unexpected move, and the older woman is suddenly flying to pieces once more, fingernails digging hard into her behind, back arching off the mattress and a short yelp escaping her mouth.

" _Jesus_ , Amanda," Olivia gasps out, and Amanda winces slightly as the other woman's hands clutch onto her more forcefully for a moment.

"You want to ease up a bit there, Liv?" she chuckles, swiping a damp strand of hair back from her boss' face. "I think you're leaving fingernail marks on my ass."

"Oh, sorry, honey," Olivia replies, letting out her own chuckle before smoothing her hands over Amanda's skin and kneading the firm muscles with her fingers, and Amanda sucks in a sharp breath.

"Liv, you're going to get the motor running again, if you don't stop that," she warns, heartbeat pounding out of control, and she is in disbelief that this particular need is actually still there, that the ache is still lingering between her legs, but figures it is time to start calming things down now.

" _Again_?" Olivia says, sounding in disbelief herself, and they both break into sudden laughter at Amanda's voracious sexual appetite.

"It's been a long time, okay?" she giggles, feeling the need to defend herself, and Olivia chuckles again, before they tuck themselves back under the covers, wrapping around each other in their warm cocoon, legs entwining and arms sliding around waists.

"I know it's been a long time, honey," Olivia answers softly, fingertips grazing Amanda's cheekbone. "I think we both needed this right now."

"Yes, we definitely did," Amanda agrees, burying her head into the other woman's neck and closing her eyes. "It was a nice break from reality, wasn't it?"

"It was," Olivia whispers, and that concern from earlier is back in her voice again.

"I don't want reality to come crashing back down again, but I guess we can't stop it, can we?" Amanda feels the older woman's arms tighten around her, and then a hand caressing in circles across her bare back, and she keeps her eyes squeezed shut, determined not to let the onslaught of dark thoughts sweep back into her brain. She is desperate to freeze time right where they are at this exact moment, the two of them intertwined together in their bed, safe from the world and anyone and anything that might hurt them.

"No, we can't, sweetheart," Olivia murmurs quietly. "We have to take things as they come, no matter what they are."

"Liv, I still want to throw out the pills," Amanda says suddenly, raising her head from the other woman's shoulder to fix serious blue eyes upon her. "I know you think I should talk to my doctors first and that I'm getting ahead of myself here, but I don't want to wait until tomorrow. I just want them gone." She takes a deep breath. "I know I only screwed up with them once, and it doesn't necessarily mean it's going to happen again, but once was enough for me. I don't want to risk it; not with the issues I've already had." She pushes Olivia's hair back from her face and leans down to press a soft kiss against her lips. "I fully intend to keep my promise to you, Liv. I'm not going to give up, no matter how bad things get. I'm not going to let this asshole take anything else from me. I want to catch him and get justice for myself and the other woman. And I want to get back to work and live happily ever after with you."

Olivia smiles softly at this last statement and Amanda smiles back, not caring how cheesy or goofy it sounds, because it is absolutely true. She wants nothing more than to continue to move forward with the love of her life, and if she can't leave the darkness entirely behind, she intends to keep working toward a healthy way to live with it, to perhaps learn to co-exist with the darker half of her personality and accept that it will always be there to some degree; realizing that the person she was before the assault will never be the person she is again, but that this new person is still capable of working and living and loving, just in a different way than before.

The gritty resolve Amanda woke up with that morning has reignited and is burning brightly within her now and she clutches onto Olivia tightly, determined not to fall again.


	25. Chapter 25

**This is the last chapter of the story. I wanted to say a massive THANK YOU for all of the reviews, favorites, follows, and private messages; they are very much appreciated and I find them very inspiring! :) _  
_**

xxx

Amanda is sitting on the curb outside of her apartment building, chilled to the bone and shivering violently in the harsh winter cold. She has just come from the gym and is waiting impatiently for Olivia to arrive home from the precinct, the older woman running late, as usual. Her colleagues have been drowning under the normal pileup of cases at work, along with attending the ongoing trials of the men implicated in the ring of child sex abuse the previous fall, resulting in even later nights than usual for Olivia, and she is very eager to spend some much-needed quality time with the woman she loves.

The last couple of hours at the gym had left her sweaty and boiling hot, both from the intense physical exertion and the mix of pride and anxiety she had experienced while sparring with a member of the opposite sex in her boxing class without having to duck into the bathroom to have a private meltdown afterwards. This is the first time she has been able to control herself so well in that kind of situation; the familiar panic simmering just below the surface but not exploding, and eventually melting away entirely as she had changed out of her workout clothes in the locker room afterwards. Amanda had been desperate for some relief from the heat and was relieved to step outside into the cold, but the perspiration has since dried on her skin, leaving her a shivering little ball of quaking limbs, and she tucks her arms and legs closer to her body, curling into herself for warmth. Throwing a quick glance toward the door, she spots the interior of the harshly lit lobby just beyond the glassed-in windows, beckoning with its promise of warmth and safety.

Amanda intends to stay out here while she awaits Olivia's arrival, though, instead of seeking the comfort and security of her apartment. She is very aware of the alleyway right behind her, the shadowy darkness visible in her peripheral vision as she inclines her head to the side, both keeping a watch for her boss and monitoring the comings and goings of her fellow New Yorkers and tourists as people bustle by her on the sidewalk. No one is lingering for long in this brutal cold, as the city seems to be stuck in a perpetual deep-freeze even though spring is nearly upon them now. She is ready to hop up from the curb at a second's notice if she spots any kind of suspicious activity within the narrow murky depths between the buildings, but if everything remains as it has been since she has arrived home, normal and nothing out of the ordinary, she will stay right where she is, determined to ignore those unseen monsters that linger not in the alley itself but only in her head.

It is midway through the evening on Friday, just over a month after the assault on the young woman outside of the bar, and Amanda has been challenging herself more and more as the days have gone by to do things outside of her comfort zone, to not let herself fall any further than she already has, and surprisingly she has risen to the challenge each and every single time, not sliding backwards at all but continuing to creep forward with slow but steady progress. She has chosen not to hide herself away when it comes to doing normal things like waiting for her girlfriend outside of their building, instead of fleeing indoors before anyone has a chance to hurt her. Amanda intends to continue on in this fashion until everything is exactly as it should be, confident in the fact that she is much closer than she has ever been before, and secure in the knowledge that her long break from work is finally winding to a close. She had just found out that afternoon that there has been a specific date set for her return to the precinct and that she will be reunited with her colleagues in a few short weeks. She will be starting off doing light desk duty on a part-time basis, but is ecstatic that there is not much time left until she is back where she belongs, doing what she was born to do, and is no longer melting down on a regular basis in Olivia's presence, the older woman forced time and time again to pick up the shattered pieces of Amanda's sanity.

She knows that Olivia doesn't mind, that there is only worry and love and concern when Amanda falls apart, finally in firm belief that there is no resentment whatsoever on the other woman's part, the fear that she is keeping Olivia from a regular life free of Amanda's nightmares and anxiety and flashbacks dissipating, but she wants this for herself; needs to know that she is capable of existing somewhat normally and can weather the challenges of life on her own, no matter how big or small they are. Amanda has not had one pill since she had slipped up with her medication a few weeks ago, and true to her word, had thrown out every last one before even speaking to her doctors on the subject. Olivia had not been entirely pleased with the situation, continuing to insist that Amanda talk to her doctors first, but had come around when she had realized how serious Amanda was in moving forward without anything that had the potential to develop into yet another addiction. She is aware of the possibility that she has jumped to conclusions over what had happened with the anti-anxiety medication on that terrible night, but for now at least, Amanda does not want to tempt fate and is as resolute at refusing any type of pill as she is at staying away from gambling and alcohol.

She has had several conversations throughout the ensuing weeks with different doctors and therapists and fellow addicts at both the PTSD program and her Gamblers Anonymous meetings, and everyone has been supportive and understanding with her breakdown the previous month and her decision to continue forward with only the talk-therapy, and she has been more content with the way things have been going since then. There have still been no breaks in the case and Amanda is deeply bothered by this, her thoughts remaining fixed on her fellow victim a good chunk of the time, but she is determined to keep pushing forward regardless of what ends up happening. Whether one suspect or perhaps two are caught today, if they are caught next month, or are never caught at all, she is remaining firmly entrenched in her journey forward and doing a much better job of keeping the nightmares and anxiety and flashbacks at bay.

She and Olivia are going out tonight; dinner at a fancy restaurant, followed by seeing the newest comedy at the movie theater, to celebrate the news of Amanda's impending return to work and the gradual winding down of her PTSD treatment. There will still be therapy appointments for quite some time to come, but the intensity and frequency of the different programs and activities will be soon be coming to a close, to allow her more time at the precinct as she slowly works her way back to her normal full-time job, including field work. She is more than ready for a new schedule now, and looking forward to spending her days the way she has always been meant to, Fin and Carisi seemingly just as thrilled by her return as she herself is, as they have both been texting her non-stop lately, and the prospect of spending more time with her boys fills her with joy.

Amanda is determined to have a proper night out with the woman she loves, and has already planned what she is going to wear, having bought a new dress for the occasion to surprise Olivia with. She doesn't care how cold it is outside or that she had experienced some of her most acute and excruciating panic attacks and flashbacks the last time she had tried to wear a dress to the movie theater. She is in a much better place now and is confident and determined that the previous events will not repeat themselves this time, not to mention how eager she is for Olivia to see her in the new outfit. She is proud of the way her body looks now, the time at the gym and attention to diet paying off in so many different ways, and it is a relief to look in the mirror and actually be able to recognize the reflection of the woman staring back at her; the haunted, pale, gaunt woman of the past being slowly having been replaced by the person she is now.

Her impatience level is steadily increasing as she waits, eager to get their evening started and have some lighthearted fun with her boss, and she cranes her neck, hoping to spot Olivia within the crowd, but the older woman is still nowhere to be seen. Their relationship has been becoming increasingly more serious lately, as Amanda has continued on in the right direction with her recovery, and they have started some tentative talks about their future together, once she is settled back in at the precinct. They have discussed the possibility of moving out of Amanda's small apartment at some point, and finding a place more permanent, like a house with a yard, just in case they decide to get a dog or another kind of pet. Amanda has begun mentioning how nice it would be to have a furry friend around to help her cope with the extreme loneliness she still feels whenever Olivia is absent; whether the older woman is at work for hours on end or has just gone out to do an errand that will only take a very short amount of time, that emptiness is always lingering when she is not there, and Amanda has come to find that she despises being alone for any length of time now, even though she was so used to it before the assault had occurred, and had actually enjoyed the time to herself. She still craves that physical and emotional closeness with Olivia, and even though she is very used to their routine now, and she knows she will be rejoining her at work soon, it is still quite difficult for her to be without the other woman for any length of time.

When several more minutes have passed and Amanda has lost feeling in various parts of her body due to the frigid temperature, she decides that she will have to wait for Olivia in the lobby, the desperate urgency for some warmth trumping the need to prove to herself that she can sit in front of the alleyway without having a meltdown. She has struggled partway to her feet, joints stiff and painful from sitting on the freezing cold curb, that impatient feeling threatening to explode, when she hears her name being called out of the darkness and looks up to see Olivia rushing over to her with a worried expression on her face.

"Honey, what are you doing out here?" the older woman asks, tone tinged with confusion and concern, as she bends down to help Amanda to her feet, wrapping a firm arm around her waist and guiding her quickly toward the door of their building.

A smile had begun to play on Amanda's frozen lips as soon as she had caught sight of the woman she loves, and that smile is now threatening to continue stretching across her face until it bursts into a silly grin, so grateful for Olivia's return to their home and excited about the prospect of getting to spend more of their days together in the very near future. Her extreme reactions and emotions toward Olivia still amuse and confound her somewhat, and she doesn't think she will ever stop missing the other woman when she is gone; that overwhelming love and passion and need never ceasing to exist or even dwindle at all, and she is still amazed from time to time at her depth of feeling for Olivia, as it has far surpassed anything she has ever known in her life. It still has the ability to take her breath away with the knowledge that the other woman feels the exact same way, and that she has never been so loved or cherished or well taken care of in her entire life.

As they wait for the elevator on the ground floor, Olivia seems just as impatient as Amanda had been, jabbing her finger repeatedly into the button while Amanda remains tucked against her side, trying to burrow into the taller woman's body for warmth. "You didn't tell me why you were outside," she says, squeezing Amanda's hip with one hand and keeping the other hand over the button as if it will make the elevator move more quickly. "We need to get you upstairs and warmed up."

"I was hot from the gym," Amanda replies. "So I decided to wait for you outside. I needed some fresh air."

"Fresh air that's so cold, it's practically frozen solid?" Olivia answers wryly, and Amanda smirks in response before shuddering intensely again, wondering if she will ever be able to get warm and wanting nothing more than a steaming hot shower as soon as she gets up to the apartment.

"Liv, I'm _freezing_ ," she moans pitifully, as the elevator doors slide open in front of them and they walk into the empty cubicle together.

"Well, that's what happens when you sit outside in sub-zero temperatures," Olivia chastises gently with a slight roll of her eyes, letting go of her to press the button for their floor.

"I was just trying to prove to myself that I could do it," Amanda mumbles, teeth still chattering violently as she speaks, and she wraps her arms around herself, desperate for some warmth.

"Do what, honey?" Olivia asks with a frown.

"I wanted to sit in front of that alley without having a breakdown; without being scared that someone was going to come out and attack me," Amanda replies, noticing the sudden play of emotions across the other woman's face as she speaks. "And I did it," she continues, with a tremulous grin and a self-deprecating chuckle. "Well, even if I practically froze to death while doing it."

"Oh, sweetheart," Olivia says softly, fixing her with a compassionate expression. "Come here." The other woman unzips her puffy winter coat and pulls Amanda against her, bringing the sides of the large jacket around Amanda's smaller frame so that they are both engulfed in the same warm material, and she melts gratefully against her boss, laying her head on Olivia's shoulder and soaking in the heat from the taller woman's body, surrounded by that familiar and comforting scent of vanilla.

"There, is that better?" Olivia questions gently, rubbing her hands vigorously up and down Amanda's back as they stand there fused together in a tangle of limbs, and she nods against her boss' shoulder, turning her head to place her frozen lips against the side of Olivia's neck and planting a quick kiss on her soft skin as a gesture of thanks. She is startled by the sharp flinch that immediately follows this action, the other woman stiffening against her and sounding like she is trying to stifle a sudden yelp.

"Jesus, Amanda, your lips are _freezing_ ," Olivia complains, shifting subtly away from her, and Amanda grasps onto the taller woman's body tightly, not wanting to be separated now that there is finally a bit of warmth beginning to infuse her system.

"No, don't try to get away from me," she mutters, a hint of amusement in her tone as Olivia's actions seem a tad more dramatic now, the other woman trying to take a giant step backwards in the small space. "Liv, _stop_ ," she giggles, the grip around her boss becoming more firm, and she bites the inside of her cheek to contain the mischievous smile that is threatening to break loose as she untucks Olivia's blouse from her pants and slides her hands beneath the silky garment, icy cold fingers coming to rest on the older woman's bare skin.

Olivia lets out a strangled shriek of surprise, apparently rendered entirely speechless, and momentarily stopping in her movements to escape the situation. Amanda can't contain her laughter now, roving hands moving in wide circles around the older woman's ribs, pinching lightly with her chilled fingers, and eliciting even more of the undignified noises coming from her boss' mouth.

"Well, that's your punishment for trying to get away from me," she snickers gleefully, and then raises up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on the taller woman's lips. "Let's warm each other up, okay?" she murmurs, fully expecting Olivia to back away from her again, grousing that Amanda's lips are too cold and that they shouldn't be engaging in public displays of affection in an elevator, and delighted to be proven wrong; the other woman responding immediately, the kiss deepening and quickly taking a turn towards the passionate.

"Hmm, someone's a little horny tonight," Amanda observes with pleasure, a flood of arousal spreading through her as Olivia's tongue slips into her mouth, and she hears the older woman's answering chuckle, the kiss escalating in intensity, arms locked tightly around one another, tongues sliding slickly against each other.

She is seriously contemplating pressing the emergency button to halt the elevator's movements, suddenly too impatient to even make it back up to the apartment and considering just having her way with Olivia right then and there as this seems like a much better option to increase body heat instead of just taking a hot shower, when the tiny box they are riding in jerks to an abrupt stop and the doors slide open. They pull away from each other so fast that Amanda almost loses her footing and slips, and that urge to laugh is bubbling just under the surface again when she glances over at Olivia, the older woman blushing like a school girl who has just been caught making out in a classroom by the principal. She herself is a little embarrassed as well, and can feel a hot pink flush spreading across her own cheeks as two young men enter the elevator, throwing them somewhat surprised looks, one elbowing the other and cocking his head toward them with a slight smirk.

Amanda's embarrassment quickly ratchets up to complete mortification when she realizes exactly who they are, recognizing them instantly from several months ago, when the four of them had a shared another elevator ride together and she had experienced a complete and total meltdown in front of the men, convinced that they were going to bring harm to both Olivia and herself. The situation had resulted in the men almost calling for an ambulance and she and the older woman having to vacate the premises before they had even reached their floor, kicking off one of the worst and most prolonged panic attacks she had ever endured. That was the night Olivia had given Amanda her childhood ring as her borrowed safety object to clutch onto whenever she was in distress, the older woman doing absolutely everything she could to bring her back from the edge of panic and despair.

She sidles closer to the taller woman, lacing her finger's through Olivia's and keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the floor, hoping the men won't realize who she is. There is that urge to press herself against the taller woman's body like she had the last time and bury her face into her neck; not because she is afraid this time, but because she cannot contain her shame and embarrassment at the vivid memories of how she had reacted to their presence that night.

Olivia is squeezing her fingers in quiet support and she knows her boss recognizes the two men as well. There is utter silence in the elevator now, and the blush on Amanda's cheeks is darkening rapidly as she can feel their prying sets of eyes upon her, gazes fixed right on her face with blatant curiosity. She is so acutely uncomfortable with the situation that she swings her eyes up to glare at each of them, prepared to snarl at the men for staring at her so openly and rudely, and is overcome with surprise when she notices both of the young men looking back at her with nothing but compassionate expressions on their faces.

"It's nice to see you doing so much better," one of them says sincerely, giving her a warm smile, the other nodding in agreement, and Amanda blinks in astonishment, those intense feelings of embarrassment and shame still mixing firmly together, but there is a faint hint of pride pushing its way up through the negative emotions now.

"Thank you," she mumbles, a corner of her lip lifting slightly in acknowledgment, and they both give her friendly nods in return.

It is completely silent again, and Amanda is overcome with a wave of awkwardness as she hastily averts her gaze once more, feeling Olivia's grip tighten somewhat around in her hand, and she has to stop herself from exhaling harshly in relief when the elevator finally comes to a halt on their floor. She can't escape the little box fast enough, and mutters a quick goodbye as she hurriedly exits the small area while tugging the older woman swiftly along with her, wiping a hand over her flushed cheeks when they are free and clear of the probing gazes of the young men and are striding quickly down the hall to their unit.

"Are you okay?" Olivia asks softly, as they step inside the apartment and begin removing their copious amounts of outdoor winter wear, making a pile of jackets and hats and gloves by the door.

"Well, other than practically dying of embarrassment in that elevator, I guess I'm fine," Amanda mutters, wondering if the pink blush of humiliation still staining her cheeks is going to become a permanent thing, as she cannot seem to rid herself of it.

"You should be proud of yourself, honey," the older woman says quietly, but there is a certain amount of intensity radiating from her tone as well. "You've come such a long way since last year, and people are going to take notice of it. Everyone is so proud of all the progress you have made."

"Yeah, and apparently 'everyone' includes the random guys in the elevator," Amanda grumbles dryly, rolling her eyes in self-deprecation, but that hint of gratification is still lingering just below the surface, the satisfaction of being able to do the things she had once taken for granted and not given a second thought; never having imagined in the past that something as simple as waiting for her girlfriend outside of their building or riding in an elevator with her would take so much effort and hard work and that there would be such a ridiculous amount of fanfare when she was finally able to accomplish these mundane tasks again with relative ease.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm also about to die of embarrassment, since those random guys in the elevator caught us making out in there like a couple of horny teenagers," Olivia chuckles, wrapping her arms around Amanda and pulling her close, and she joins in the laughter, laying her head on the taller woman's shoulder. They hold onto each other for a long moment and Amanda closes her eyes as she feels Olivia's hand gently swiping the hair back from her face, her boss' lips right next to her ear. "I know it's difficult for you to be in this situation, honey," the other woman continues softly. "I know there is a certain embarrassment factor that has come into play a lot during your recovery process, but it's okay to be proud of yourself for achieving these things. Just try to keep in mind that the small achievements are leading to the bigger ones, and that all of this hard work has paid off, now that you are returning to the precinct in a few weeks."

"Just on part-time desk duty, though," Amanda reminds her with a slight sigh.

"Yes, part-time desk duty for _now_ ," Olivia responds emphatically. "But it won't take long to work your way back up to where you left off; to be right back where you belong." She feels the older woman's arms tighten around her and is surprised when she hears the sudden swell of emotion in Olivia's voice, a trace of tears in the undertone. "And no one is more proud of you than I am." There is a fierceness mixing in with the threat of tears now, and Amanda leans back in the other woman's embrace to lock eyes with Olivia, the depth of feeling on her boss' face taking her breath away.

The older woman is staring at her with that deep soul-penetrating gaze, the only person who has ever looked at her this way, who has ever taken the time to get to know her on the deepest level possible, the only person she has ever _allowed_ to know her on the deepest level possible, and the intimacy they share in every conceivable way is enough to induce shivers from head to toe. "I've seen firsthand what you have gone through since that night after the drive-in movies, when you told me what had happened to you," Olivia says, tone becoming a hushed whisper, but the emotions still just as strong. "I have watched the immense amount of suffering you have gone through; how you have pulled yourself back up from the darkness each and every time you slipped, even when I wasn't sure if you had the strength to do it. If I ever began to doubt your ability and tenacity, the will you have to never give up, you proved me wrong each and every time. That stubborn attitude of yours has served you very well, Amanda, because it has gotten you where you are today."

" _You_ got me here, Liv," Amanda replies instantly, feeling overcome with her own emotions now. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you; if it wasn't for everything you have done for me. Who else would have dropped everything in their life to help me when I couldn't even help myself? Who else would have actually _moved in_ with me after I admitted what had happened?" She gulps hard, struggling to keep a surge of tears at bay. "I honestly don't know what I would have done without you. You saved me, Liv."

"You saved yourself, sweetheart; I was just along for the ride," Olivia insists quietly. "You got yourself here, Amanda, and don't you forget it for a second, do you hear me? You are by far the strongest, most courageous person I have ever met, and you blow me away everyday with the will you have to keep pushing forward, to never give up despite all the setbacks you have endured. You're pretty damn incredible, you know that?"

Amanda's throat is tight as she listens to the older woman speak, again overcome with astonishment at the way other people are reacting to her progress, as if she has climbed Mount Everest instead of just trying to conquer Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but she privately admits that it has honestly felt that way sometimes; as if she has traversed the highest mountain peaks and then dropped down into the lowest valleys in search of some peace of mind, desperate to regain some semblance of control over her life. The constant ups and downs and highs and lows have been exhausting and unrelenting, a roller coaster of varying feelings and emotions, and it has been a relief to finally be on somewhat of a more even keel lately; things settling down to a point where she feels like she can breathe again and is not utterly consumed with the issues that have been plaguing her since the previous fall, when her entire world had completely shattered and she was unsure if the broken pieces of her life could ever be fully repaired again.

"Well, thanks," Amanda murmurs, swallowing hard once again at a very insistent tidal wave of emotions, and even though she is appreciative and astounded at the other woman's words, and the love she feels for her boss is overwhelming in its intensity, she is very determined to have a lighthearted night with Olivia, free from any of her lingering darkness, wanting nothing more than to celebrate her milestones without getting sucked back down into the murky shadows that continually reside in the deepest, blackest parts of her brain. "And you're pretty damn incredible yourself there, Liv," she adds softly, knowing truer words have never been spoken, and she is the luckiest person alive to have Olivia Benson as her protector and lover and soulmate.

Olivia seems to be studying her quite closely for a moment, brow slightly furrowed in thought, apparently realizing Amanda's need to keep things light for the evening, and a sudden goofy grin spreads across her face. "Tell me something I don't already know," she jokes breezily, and Amanda smiles thankfully back at her, the spell of seriousness broken between them for now.

"Well, I'm still kind of turned on," she admits with a chuckle, still feeling a little restless with pent-up desire and arousal from their interrupted elevator ride.

Olivia just shakes her head and rolls her eyes, the grin on her face widening. "I said tell me something I _don't_ already know, Amanda," she laughs. "Is there ever a time when you're _not_ turned on?"

"Well, when I'm around you, it's difficult not to be," she snickers, poking the other woman playfully in the ribs. "I need a shower before we go out, though, so how about we get into the tub and continue where we left off in the elevator?"

"I'll be in soon," Olivia replies, leaning down to place a quick kiss on Amanda's lips, before releasing her from her tight embrace and heading into the kitchen. "I'm just going to grab a little snack first. I've hardly had time to eat anything today."

"Well, don't eat too much, Liv," Amanda cautions, already beginning to shrug out of her clothes, tossing them carelessly to the floor and leaving a trail of messily-shed garments leading back to the bathroom. "Save some of that appetite for dinner. And don't be too long joining me in here, okay?" she adds, raising her voice slightly to be overhead above the clinking of bottles in the refrigerator. "You know I'll start without you if I have to wait too long."

"Yes, I don't doubt that for a second, Amanda," Olivia answers dryly, but there is a hint of arousal edging out the humor in her tone now, and Amanda grins in satisfaction as she removes the last of her clothing and turns on the shower, cranking the heat up as high as it will go, figuring Olivia will be joining her any minute now and they can get all the pent-up lust and desire of out of their systems before enjoying a lovely evening out.

Amanda stands under the sharp spray of the shower with her eyes squeezed shut and lets the scalding hot water rain down over her head until she is sufficiently warmed up, and then turns the temperature down slightly, as she does not wish to look like a boiled lobster when they embark on their date night. She pours a generous amount of shampoo into her palm and begins scrubbing it through her long blonde hair, that impatience beginning to spread through her system again as she wonders what is taking Olivia so long.

After she rinses the shampoo from her hair, Amanda sticks her head out from behind the shower curtain and directs her voice through the open door of the bathroom. "Liv, how long does it take to eat a little snack?" she calls out, feeling quite disgruntled now. "I need a quickie before dinner!"

"That's classy, Amanda!" the older woman calls back, and she can hear the hint of amusement in Olivia's tone, along with some shuffling sounds, and she frowns, wondering what her boss is doing and what could be more important than sharing a shower together to start off their date night. "I'll be there in a minute," Olivia adds, her voice more muffled now, and Amanda shakes her head with a sigh, picking up the bottle of conditioner from the corner of the tub.

When several more minutes have passed and she is squeaky clean and ready to vacate the shower, Olivia still not having made an appearance in the bathroom, she shuts the water off harder than necessary and quickly dries her body with a towel before combing roughly through her wet hair and wrapping herself in a robe, while sliding her feet into the monkey slippers that are waiting for her on the floor next to the bathtub. She has a feeling she is going to find Olivia on her laptop when leaves the room, the other woman getting caught up on work from the precinct even though she has just left, and she marches into the hallway, determined to put a stop to it, the usual concern that her boss is incapable of leaving the job alone when she is free and clear for the weekend mixing in with her extreme irritation.

"Olivia Benson, if I come out there to find you working on a Friday night when you just got home, I'm filing for divorce," Amanda jokingly threatens, but that frustration is blooming just beneath the surface and she clenches her jaw tightly, not wanting the nice celebratory evening she has planned for them to go downhill before it has even begun.

"Don't we have to get married first before we get divorced?" Olivia's teasing voice replies, and Amanda stops dead in her tracks, jaw dropping open in surprise, brow wrinkling in confusion.

The older woman is perched on the edge of the couch with a dog sitting patiently at her feet; what looks to be a pit bull mix, a blue and white checkered bandana tied around the animal's neck. When the canine catches sight of Amanda, she straightens up immediately and lets out a sharp bark, body quivering with excitement.

"Um...that's a dog," Amanda says stupidly, after a brief moment of perplexed silence.

"Thank you for clarifying that, honey," Olivia laughs softly. "This is Frannie Mae," she continues, stroking a hand over the dog's head, the animal's tail thumping rhythmically against the floor now.

"Okay..." Amanda trails off. "What's she doing in the apartment?"

"She's yours," Olivia replies, before quickly correcting herself. " _Ours_ , I mean. I thought it was time to add another member to our little family."

A sudden warmth unfurls in Amanda's chest at the older woman's mention of the word 'family' and she finds her eyes rapidly welling with tears as she gazes upon Olivia and this unexpected new pet, the dog's tail hitting the floor more furiously now, and she gets down on somewhat shaky knees, the animal trotting right over to her and giving her face a friendly swipe with her tongue. "Hello there, Frannie Mae," Amanda chuckles and reaches up to give the dog a gentle pat on the head, Frannie tucking herself right into her side and settling there like she has always belonged to them.

She looks up and meets Olivia's dark gaze, a hint of tears in the other woman's eyes now as well, and they smile at each other. "Where did she come from?" Amanda whispers, voice hushed and slightly choked with emotion when she speaks.

"From a shelter," Olivia answers, reaching out to run her hand along the dog's head, her fingers tangling with Amanda's. "You know how we've been talking about the future, possibly getting a dog and a house? Well, I didn't want to overwhelm you with everything at once, especially since you're also coming back to work soon, so I thought we could start off with the dog and work our way up from there. We can take things slow."

"Well, you _are_ the queen of taking things slow, Liv," Amanda teases gently, giving the other woman's fingers a squeeze.

Olivia smirks at her and squeezes back. "Fin and Carisi have been waiting with her in Fin's car downstairs. We picked her up right after work tonight, so that's why I was late getting home. I was going to surprise you when we got here, but I didn't expect you to be waiting outside on the curb, and I wanted to bring her up to the apartment first. I knew you were going to take a shower after the gym, so we thought that would be the perfect time to sneak her in and surprise you. That's why I couldn't join you in the tub."

A sudden thought occurs to Amanda and she finds herself blushing profusely and staring at Olivia with a hint of horror in her expression. "Please tell me the boys weren't in here when I was calling to you from the bathroom because I needed a quickie before dinner."

Olivia throws her head back and laughs. "No, honey, they didn't hear a word of that, I promise. They came in right afterwards, and it was only for a second to drop Frannie off. They know we're celebrating tonight, so they didn't stick around."

"Well, that's good," Amanda replies with a sigh of relief. "That scene in the elevator was enough embarrassment for one night."

Olivia chuckles and reaches up to stroke Amanda's hair back from her face. "We won't be able to go out and celebrate like you wanted to, though, honey. I'm sorry about that. This plan has been in the works for awhile now, and we already had made arrangements to pick Frannie up when you called me this afternoon to tell me that you wanted to do dinner and a movie. I know you were really looking forward to it."

"Liv, you don't have to apologize," Amanda scoffs, leaning away from Frannie and pulling the older woman into her arms for a tight hug. "This is way better than going out. Thank you so much." She feels that surge of emotion creeping in again and sniffles slightly, Olivia's arms tightening around her in response.

"This is something I should have done for you a long time ago," the other woman whispers into her ear, and Amanda can hear the somewhat choked sound of her voice. "I know how lonely you are by yourself and how hard it's been for you when I leave for the day, and it kills me that I can't be here with you all the time. The hardest thing in the world is getting out of bed each morning and leaving you alone all day, Amanda." She feels herself being pulled onto Olivia's lap, and she buries her face in the taller woman's shoulder as she continues to speak, still overcome with emotion. "Since you still have a few weeks before you come back to the precinct, it will give Frannie time to settle into her new home and give the two of you a chance to get to know each other. And you'll only be working half days for the first little while, so you'll have someone to come home to at lunch time, when I have to stay on for the rest of the day."

"Thank you so much," Amanda repeats, and feels herself being rocked gently from side to side in Olivia's embrace, giggling when a curious wet nose starts snuffling at her back. She turns to the side, one arm looped around the back of Olivia's neck, and the other reaching out to pet Frannie again, wanting to give her all the attention she needs and deserves.

"I know you're doing much better with the anxiety and other issues, but Frannie is here to help during those times when it's still bad for you," Olivia says, and Amanda feels the other woman's hand tenderly brushing along her cheekbone. "Frannie's had a tough time in her life as well; she's been through a lot, just like you have, so I figured you would be good for each other. She's a survivor too." There is a brief pause. "Instead of having a safety object for your panic disorder, you now have a safety dog."

Amanda chuckles and leans forward to press her lips against Olivia's for a long moment, before pulling away and brushing the other woman's dark hair back from her face. "So I guess this means it's finally time to give your ring back," she replies, her heart clenching as she says the words, not sure if she can be separated from the tiny silver object that has become a part of her for these past several months, and that she now wears on a chain around her neck so she can keep the item close to her heart at all times. "I'm doing so much better than I was before, and now I have Frannie, so I think it's time that the ring is returned to its rightful owner."

"The ring is already with its rightful owner," Olivia answers softly, both of her hands resting on the sides of Amanda's face now, thumbs stroking gently against her temples. "I want you to keep it, honey."

The warmth that had unfurled in Amanda's chest earlier is now spreading out to encompass her entire body and she smiles at her boss, her throat suddenly very constricted once more. "You want me to keep your ring? Are you asking me to marry you, Liv?" she jokes, feeling the need to lighten things up again before she bursts into tears.

When Olivia is silent, Amanda's cheeks redden furiously again, and her mouth opens and closes for a minute, no sound escaping. "I-I was kidding, Liv," she stutters out. It feels like her heart has stopped and she stares at the older woman, their eyes locked together intensely for a long moment. "Unless...I shouldn't be kidding...?"

Olivia leans toward her, Amanda meeting the other woman's lips in a soft kiss, and they get lost in one another for few minutes before resting their foreheads against each other, Olivia's hands still tenderly bracing the sides of her face. "I love you so much, Amanda," she says quietly. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I want to have everything with you...eventually...when the timing is right. But I don't want to rush into anything when you're still getting back on your feet."

"I want to have everything with you too," Amanda whispers intently, her heart racing with excitement and pleasure at the thought of their future together, and she presses her lips against Olivia's more urgently this time, wrapping herself around the other woman and squeezing tightly. "God, I love you so much, Liv."

She feels Olivia's lips trailing a path over her cheek and down to her neck, kissing her now heated skin fervently, and she leans her head back, closing her eyes and tangling her fingers gently into the older woman's hair. "You saved me," she murmurs into Olivia's ear as the other woman continues lavishing kisses upon her, lips brushing against the hollow of her throat, repeating what she had said earlier, but instead of arguing this time, Olivia just pulls away and stares at her for a moment, those liquid dark eyes boring into her own.

"You saved me too," she replies softly, and Amanda feels that intense wave of emotion again, reaching out to run a fingertip lightly over Olivia's lower lip.

"I did?" she asks quietly.

Olivia nods slowly in confirmation, stroking Amanda's hair back from her face. "I was in a really bad place when you first told me what had happened to you. We all have our ways of coping when things get bad at work, and when we had that string of cases with the kids last year, some of whom we couldn't save, I had my own self destructive ways of dealing with it. While you slipped up with the gambling, I was drinking more and more every night and my relationship with Tucker was going rapidly downhill. And I knew something was wrong with you; that something had happened, but I didn't know what. I just felt like everything was spiraling out of control; like it was too much to handle all at once, and things were going in a bad direction." She pauses for a moment, and Amanda reaches down to link their fingers together, squeezing gently.

"Everything started changing after you told me what had happened to you and I came to stay with you," Olivia continues. "You were having such a rough time, but you were trying so hard despite all the odds stacked against you, and it just changed something in me. All I wanted was to be there for you, to help you in any way I could, and the strength you had in dealing with your own issues helped me deal with mine. Being with you every single day, sharing my life with you...it filled a hole that had been there for my entire life, it seems. When everything else was going wrong and I was having a hard time getting over my previous relationship, you made everything bearable, Amanda. Having someone to share a home with, to eat meals with, to watch movies with, having someone to hold at night..." Olivia trails off and they continue to stare at one another, brown eyes locked onto blue.

"Somewhere along the way, things began changing...I came to think of you as a friend instead of a colleague...and then it was so much more than that. I slowly began to realize that I was in love with you, and it scared the hell out of me at first because it was such a new and different feeling," Olivia confesses with a short chuckle, and Amanda nods in agreement, lip curling up slightly at the corner, remembering with acute accuracy her own feelings of confusion and terror when she had begun to realize that Olivia was so much more than a boss or a friend.

"I'm glad I could be there for you in your time of need, like you were here for me," Amanda says gently, and there is an ache inside of her chest now because she hadn't known just how much Olivia had been suffering when they had started living together, and it blows her mind that she had been able to bring the other woman a certain amount of comfort and companionship, even while she had barely been keeping her own head above water and had slipped up with her recovery time and time again, continually plummeting back into the dark depths of despair. "There aren't words to express how grateful I am for your presence in my life, Olivia. I didn't think it was possible to love someone so much, and I can't wait to start our future together."

They smile tremulously at one another, both dangerously on the verge of tears, and Frannie barks suddenly, as if reminding them she is there too and is requiring much more attention on the first night in her new home than they are currently giving her. They both laugh as the dog butts right in between them, sticking her moist nose into Amanda's face, a long wet tongue swiping out to lick a path from her cheek to her forehead.

Amanda squeals in response and pulls away, continuing to laugh as Olivia reaches out to give Frannie a fond pat on the head. "I think our new pet is trying to tell us that things are getting much too serious here," she chuckles. "That lighthearted evening you had planned doesn't seem to be working out too well, honey."

"It's okay," Amanda replies gently, leaning over to plant a kiss on Olivia's cheek and then gathering Frannie into her arms, her heart overflowing with love and joy for her little family. "There's still plenty of time left to enjoy our night."

"Yes, there is," Olivia agrees with a smile. "What do you say we order some food?"

xxx

They end up doing their own version of a fancy dinner and comedic movie at home instead of going out for the evening, so they can keep their dog company in her new surroundings. While Frannie explores every single inch of the apartment, trotting eagerly from room to room and snuffling curiously at everything in sight, Amanda puts on her new dress, and is very pleased to get the response she had hoped for from Olivia. The older woman wears a dress of her own, and they light candles and drape the kitchen table with an elegant tablecloth, eating take-out pizza off of china plates and drinking soda from the matching china cups. When their meal is done, they retire to the living room and are thrilled to find the same Jim Carrey movie marathon that had been playing the first weekend they had stayed together, when Amanda had fallen so deep into the miserable routine of anxiety, flashbacks, and nightmares, she didn't think she would ever be able to claw her way out again.

As they lay on the couch digesting their meal and enjoying the silly comedy, Amanda's back tucked against Olivia's chest and Frannie sprawled out across the both of them like she has always been here, the little family entwined together on the cushions, she thinks back to the first time they had watched this movie marathon and how much has changed since then, both in their relationship with each other and her own life in general. She is eternally grateful that so much good had come from all the bad, and finds herself looking forward to the future and everything that awaits them with an exhilaration that she has never experienced before.

They spend the rest of the evening cuddled up together on the couch, Frannie seemingly having slid so perfectly into their lives like she is exactly where she belongs and the three of them were always meant to be with each other, and they end up falling asleep snuggled in the pile of blankets they had lined the cushions with to make a cozy little nest. The sudden ringing of Olivia's cell phone on the coffee table jerks them all awake in the wee hours of the morning, and they are a confused pile of tangled limbs, both human and canine, as each one struggles out of slumber and back to reality.

"Ugh, Liv, you're not on call this weekend," Amanda mumbles groggily, cracking an exhausted eye open as the older woman slides out from underneath her, and she burrows into the furry body of her new pet when Olivia leaves their comfortable makeshift bed, feeling the loss of warmth immediately. "Don't answer it."

"Honey, it's the middle of the night, so it's obviously important," Olivia chastises gently, and she closes her eyes again as she feels the other woman run a soothing hand over the top of her head before going into the kitchen and murmuring a quiet 'hello'.

Amanda figures she must have drifted back to sleep again, because the next thing she knows, she is being shaken awake by a couple of very insistent hands gripping onto her shoulders, Olivia's intense voice urging her to open her eyes.

"Hmm...what?" she says, sudden alarm spearing through the haze of slumber, and she scrambles into a sitting position on the couch when she sees Olivia kneeling on the floor before her, hands braced firmly on Amanda's knees now, regarding her with an intent expression.

"They've been caught," the older woman states somewhat breathlessly, and Amanda frowns at her uncomprehendingly.

"What?" she murmurs, that confusion still clinging stubbornly onto her as she continues to struggle out of the cobwebs of sleep, and it suddenly dawns on her what Olivia is referring to. " _They've_ been caught?" she repeats incredulously.

"Yes, honey," the other woman says softly, her hands sliding from Amanda's knees to grasp onto her fingers, squeezing tightly. "They've been arrested and have just been transported to the hospital for treatment before being taken to the precinct."

Amanda is at a loss for words for a moment as she stares at the older women. " _They_...as in more than one? There were two of them this whole time? The asshole from the alley was telling the truth? The friend with the car actually exists?"

"Yes, it appears that way," Olivia replies grimly. "They screwed up tonight and made the mistake of targeting someone who wasn't alone this time. The incident took place at a club not too far from where you were assaulted. A young woman had gone outside into the alley to get some fresh air because she felt sick, and they were pulling her into the car when her group of friends came out to look for her. They put a stop to what was happening, and the police were called. Apparently the men who hurt her were pretty roughed up themselves, after the woman's male friends got ahold of them. They need stitches and there might be some broken bones as well."

"So another woman was hurt?" Amanda whispers in a hushed tone, and Olivia squeezes her hands firmly again.

"Yes, sweetheart, she was, but she's going to be okay," the older woman assures her quietly. "One of the men, who matches the description the other victim and the bartender gave us, assaulted her before the other man brought the car around. She's also at the hospital for treatment, and her parents have been called. She was hurt in the same way you and the other young woman were, but her friends put a stop to it before it could go any further; before the two men could take her away to another location."

"I'm glad they've been caught," Amanda finally says after another moment of stunned silence, still struggling to digest this new information and trying to keep her voice from shaking as she speaks. "But I wish it could have happened before they hurt someone else." She pauses briefly and gazes at Olivia with eyes that are rapidly welling with tears. "How many more of us are there, Liv? How many women are out there that have been hurt like we were?"

"I don't know, honey," Olivia answers gently, reaching up to wipe a tear away from Amanda's lower lashes with the pad of her thumb. "That's something we may never know, but we're sure as hell going to do everything we can to find out."

Another tear escapes from Amanda's eye and rolls down her cheek, Frannie leaning over to swipe the small drop of liquid away with her tongue before snuggling into her side, and Amanda gives the dog a tremulous smile, their new pet already bringing her an immense amount of comfort.

"It's over, sweetheart," Olivia says softly, pressing her lips tenderly to Amanda's forehead and lacing their fingers together again.

"It's not over, Liv," Amanda murmurs, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the very news that she has been waiting to hear for the past several months; that the monsters who have haunted her nightmares have finally been caught after all this time, and that justice will hopefully be served. "There's so much to do now. Interrogations, interviews, a trial. It's really just beginning, isn't it?"

"The _worst_ is over," Olivia corrects gently. "The waiting and the wondering and feeling so unsafe all the time. That's the worst part, sweetheart, and it's done now. It's over. We've got them and we're going to do everything we can to make sure they are punished for the terrible crimes they've committed and will never hurt anyone again."

"The worst is over," Amanda confirms in an astounded whisper, still struggling to grasp onto everything that has happened after being pulled from a sound sleep.

"It's over, baby." Olivia's voice has also dropped down to a whisper, and there are tears shining in the older woman's dark eyes now as she holds her arms out to Amanda.

She is overcome with an intense wave of relief as she melts into Olivia's embrace, the older woman holding onto her tightly and rocking her back and forth, while murmuring soothing words into her ear. Wrapped up protectively in Olivia's arms with one hand locked around the back of the older woman's shirt and the other resting on top of Frannie's head, the tiny silver ring dangling on a chain beneath her pajama shirt and laying directly against her heart, Amanda feels safe and secure and loved.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" Olivia asks softly, pulling away slightly so they are eye to eye.

"Yeah," she replies, her shaky voice rising to take on a somewhat stronger tone. "I'm alright."

"I know it's a lot to take in," Olivia says quietly, her dark gaze radiating empathy and concern. "It's been a long time coming, and it's going to take a little while for it to fully sink in." She pauses briefly. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yes," Amanda murmurs in response, her arms tightening around the woman she loves. "Just keep holding me, okay? Don't let go."

"I've got you, baby," Olivia whispers, reaching down to link their pinky fingers together and squeezing gently. "I'll never let go."


End file.
